Stop Eyeing My Pretty Caretaker - Chapter 30

Chapter 30

“……”

Jian Chen stared at the familiar hibernation pod before him. It had a pure white exterior with blue accents, and although the passage of time had left it with scuffs and scratches, Jian Chen recognized it instantly—this was the exact same hibernation pod from back then.

However…

Jian Chen fell silent, then suddenly asked, “Bennet, do you have the fingerprints from my previous body?”

Bennet: “?”

Jian Chen said with a headache, “Yesting said that only his fingerprints or mine could open it.”

Yesting had already passed away, and his original body had been dead for thousands of years; his ashes had likely been swallowed up by nature long ago, let alone finding a fingerprint.

The little robot seemed to be their only hope. Perhaps he had recorded it in the past.

To his surprise, Bennet shook his head. “I… do not have a function to record fingerprints.”

Jian Chen felt they had hit a new deadlock.

If that were the case, would Dun Dun be trapped inside forever? Yesting had said that only the fingerprints of those two people could open it; otherwise, once inside, there was no possibility of coming out.

It wasn’t just that Jian Chen believed Yesting’s words subconsciously; it was also that if the pod could survive the erosion and polishing of such vast ages, it meant it wouldn’t be easily forced open by hand.

Perhaps even after his current body passed away, he still wouldn’t see his little giant panda wake up.

Jian Chen was distressed by his own train of thought.

Seeing Jian Chen’s sadness, the little robot thought for a moment. “Mr. Jian Chen, why don’t you try the fingerprints of this body?”

Jian Chen asked hesitantly, “My current body?”

Bennet nodded quickly.

It was worth a try, though there was almost no chance. After all, this wasn’t Jian Chen’s original body.

So, Jian Chen reached out and touched his index finger to the surface of the hibernation pod.

In the next second, a low startup chime sounded. Despite its age, the response was swift; it didn’t look like an antique pod that had survived thousands of years at all.

Jian Chen: !!!

It… actually opened?

With no time to wonder why his fingerprints overlapped with those of the original owner of this body, Jian Chen quickly leaned over the edge of the pod and looked down at his little panda.

But soon, his anticipation turned into profound disappointment.

—The hibernation pod was empty.

Bennet was also astonished.

Jian Chen stood dazed for a moment, then asked the little robot, “When did Dun Dun leave?”

Bennet was equally lost. “I… don’t know. I left the zoo for two years to undergo android modification on Planet Moli.”

Jian Chen asked, “Had the pod been opened before?”

If Yesting’s fingerprints were a matter of thousands of years ago, then if the original owner’s fingerprints could also open the pod, did they release Dun Dun at some point?

But in his memories of the original owner, there were no such fragments.

Bennet shook his head. “While I was here, the hibernation pod was never opened.”

Jian Chen couldn’t help but speculate—did Yesting open the pod and release Dun Dun before he passed away?

Since only their two fingerprints could open it, Yesting wouldn’t have predicted Jian Chen’s soul-transmigration. If both husbands passed away, Dun Dun would be trapped in the pod forever.

Yesting would never allow that.

So, logically speaking, Yesting must have released Dun Dun back on Ancient Earth, and the father and son spent the rest of their lives together.

Just thinking about it made Jian Chen’s eyes burn.

Only flowing liquid remained in the pod. When Jian Chen’s finger dipped down, the liquid tried to gather in one place to touch his fingertip.

Jian Chen withdrew his hand.

He stood up and closed the pod door again.

The hibernation pod was moved back to the small house in the backyard.

Bennet followed behind Jian Chen as they returned to the Director’s small villa. He stared at the youth’s back and called out softly, “Mr. Jian Chen…”

Jian Chen stopped and looked at Bennet, his gaze seemingly asking: What is it?

Bennet paused and said nothing.

“It’s okay.” Jian Chen saw the little robot’s hesitation and smiled—a somewhat bitter smile, his voice even calmer than usual. “I won’t hold onto hope anymore.”

Jian Chen thought: Dun Dun, Yesting, and everyone I knew—animals, cubs—they are all dead.

This was something he had already accepted, but a small spark of hope had suddenly ignited just now, only to be extinguished instantly.

Jian Chen decided not to let himself harbor a single shred of hope anymore.

The youth’s expression was very calm; Bennet couldn’t even see a crack of emotional breakdown.

“Although I didn’t understand why I was allowed to live at first…” Jian Chen scratched his head. After a long silence, he looked back at the little robot and said softly, “Knowing that Bennet was waiting for me makes my living meaningful.”

The little robot’s pupils shrunk slightly. He let out a soft “Mm” and nodded vigorously.

Jian Chen returned to the Director’s office.

Yesterday, he had noticed a ring of bright keys hanging in the entryway on the first floor. Jian Chen counted them quickly—there were nearly forty of them.

The Star Dust Zoo covered a massive area. Jian Chen checked the data and found the zoo spanned 68,000 square kilometers. On Ancient Earth, that would be enough to cover an entire province.

No wonder the original owner had negotiated a price of billions of Star Credits with Chen Jianshang before arriving at Planet Moli. Furthermore, Star Dust was a zoo on the brink of collapse.

Jian Chen suddenly remembered that a full hour had passed since the 8:00 AM opening time, yet not a single tourist had appeared.

To occupy such a prominent location and have such a grand area, yet have so few visitors, was enough to make one weep.

…What a pathetic zoo.

Jian Chen’s pupils shook. No revenue meant no income. To run such a massive zoo, the operating costs must be astronomical. Aside from the Imperial welfare subsidies, unless they starved the animals, refused medical care when they were sick, and cut the power to health-check equipment, they simply couldn’t afford to maintain the area.

“……”

Jian Chen fell into deep thought. The situation was worse than he had imagined.

Even though his dream was to run a zoo, facing this inevitable collapse, Jian Chen felt a sense of hopeless despair. Would the final outcome… still be selling the zoo?

Bennet didn’t notice his master’s despair. Fully utilizing his superior robotic memory, he explained professionally, showing the air of a dedicated butler:

“This is the key to the Forest Zone. This gray one is for the Polar Cold Zone. That long key is for the Ancient Beast Zone… The Ocean Zone doesn’t have a key; you need to manually turn a valve.”

Despite being in the Interstellar Era, the zoo still maintained the Ancient Earth habit of using keys to open doors. It made Jian Chen feel a sense of familiarity.

Jian Chen committed it to memory, took the keys from the entryway, found a piece of twine, strung them all together, hung them around his neck, and changed into the Director’s uniform.

As Jian Chen passed a mirror, he caught a glimpse of himself.

“!”

He truly looked like a Zoo Director.

Setting aside the issue of the zoo’s collapse, Jian Chen remembered as if from a lifetime ago that he had dreamed of being a zoo director since he was a child. Of course, that dream lasted until his marriage contract; afterward, he was blinded by the happiness of having Dun Dun, and his savings didn’t allow it, so the dream was buried.

Now, by a strange twist of fate, he had… fulfilled his dream?

Jian Chen had an indescribable feeling—both strange and melancholy.

This zoo was very different from the common perception of zoos on Ancient Earth; it was more like a massive, geographically distinct ecological park. Because the zoo was so large, it spanned regions with different temperatures, resulting in tropical rainforests, vast oceans, polar ice, and endless deserts—disparate environments that shouldn’t coexist were all present in one zoo.

For example, polar bears on cold sea ice lived in the north of the zoo, while in the south—diametrically opposite the polar bears relative to the Director’s office—lived small snails that feared heat and hid in dark, damp spots.

This was a massive wildlife park far beyond Jian Chen’s imagination.

Jian Chen and Bennet boarded a sightseeing car for internal staff. The car was an open-top vehicle, small but fast, though it couldn’t fly.

Bennet reached out and started it expertly. Jian Chen sat in the passenger seat, his eyes fixed on the semi-circular glass tunnels surrounding them, like a giant python coiling on the ground. The transparent glass covers extended deep into the zoo in all directions. At certain points, the glass passages would branch off, leading to the habitats of various species.

Jian Chen marveled silently.

It felt like walking through the three-sided transparent glass tunnels of an aquarium back on Ancient Earth. Only this time, it wasn’t high-pressure seawater outside, but fierce beasts. The glass covers were also more grand and lengthy, embedded into the ecosystem. Tourists could safely walk through and admire the animals, interacting through the glass, while the “python” glass tunnels did not disrupt the animals’ lives.

—This was the zoo of Jian Chen’s dreams.

The sightseeing car started and moved at a steady pace. Bennet, ever the considerate little robot, introduced the animals and climates of each zone, including species left over from Ancient Earth and new species of the Interstellar Era. The little robot’s chip held a massive database, practically a walking encyclopedia.

Jian Chen listened with great interest. Since it was his profession, he could listen for three days and nights as long as Bennet didn’t run out of battery.

The deeper they went, the more Jian Chen could sense that the environment outside the glass was becoming increasingly dangerous and harsh. He could imagine that the animals living here were likely just as intimidating as their surroundings.

The first day was purely for familiarizing themselves with the terrain and the situation. Because they were touring their own zoo, their time in the cable car wasn’t long. By afternoon, as the sun began to set, they started their journey back to the Director’s villa.

However, as they passed the final zone, Jian Chen spotted a small hog deer through the glass that was walking unnaturally. From the blood on its fur and a clearly open wound, it was evident the little hog deer had been attacked by a predator.

Jian Chen knew that hog deer were social animals; if they were alone, they must be facing a desperate situation. Furthermore, the deer before him was still a juvenile.

Back on Ancient Earth, hog deer were even rarer than giant pandas, with only a few dozen left globally, all carefully protected in zoos. To have hog deer integrated into nature like this, living alongside other species, was simply unimaginable.

Jian Chen jumped off the car and grabbed an emergency medical kit. He moved with very light steps, afraid he would scare the little hog deer even through the glass—deer were very skittish and alert.

Reaching a small gate, Jian Chen turned the key and unlocked it. Bennet, worried, immediately followed.

Hog deer were different from most deer. Normal deer: Agile, alert, jumping to dodge. Hog deer: Rounded rump, sturdy, short legs.

With light brown fur, the hog deer also had a ring of grayish-white spots on its body, making the fawn look plump and beautiful. No one could refuse a little fawn as round as a national treasure.

Jian Chen opened the door, stepped out from the internal passage, and officially entered the zoo’s wilderness.

The moment the fawn noticed Jian Chen, the youth stopped. Man and deer locked eyes.

Jian Chen crouched down, trying to minimize his presence and height, which were too imposing for the deer. He was glad he had dropped the keychain when he got off the car; otherwise, the clinking of keys would have been like setting off firecrackers to the fawn.

Jian Chen approached the fawn slowly. He coaxed it softly, “Little one, you’re hurt. Can you let me bandage it?”

Jian Chen said, “…I’ll be very quick, just a moment.”

Naturally, the fawn didn’t understand a word. Jian Chen spoke softly just to let the little guy get used to his voice; if he was lucky, it might lower its guard and relax.

As Jian Chen drew closer, the fawn’s legs tensed, its head and neck completely still, as stiff as a decoy.

When Jian Chen was about a meter away, he stopped testing the waters and made his move, lunging forward to catch the hog deer in his arms.

Fawn: “!!!”

The little guy immediately started struggling. If this were a male, it would have three-pronged antlers; Jian Chen had no doubt the little guy would have gored him. Luckily, this fawn was female and had no antlers.

Jian Chen didn’t start immediately but held the fawn in that position, waiting for it to calm down.

Before long, the fawn stopped crying. Its beautiful, rounded eyes with long lashes blinked, unsure if it was scared stiff or sensing this human’s warmth and scent.

Jian Chen cautiously and slowly let go of the fawn. A few seconds later, the fawn stayed in its original position, unmoving.

Jian Chen breathed a sigh of relief and cheered silently in his heart. Great, it didn’t run!

He took the disinfectant spray, cotton balls, and antiseptic from the small kit to treat the fawn’s wound. Up close, he realized the wound on the fawn’s leg was longer than he had thought and showed signs of bite marks.

Jian Chen realized he would need needle and thread to stitch the wound. He called the little robot over to help hold the fawn down. Jian Chen applied a local anesthetic before beginning to stitch.

Bennet watched silently from the side as his master bandaged the deer.

It was common knowledge that deer were extremely alert and the hardest creatures to approach or capture without weapons. Yet just now, the youth had calmed a juvenile deer. Without any forceful means, the hog deer hadn’t even run away, allowing Jian Chen to touch and bandage its wound.

Even after Jian Chen finished bandaging and stitching and applied healing spray, the fawn, now free, flicked its ears but didn’t run away immediately. It leaned forward slightly and nudged Jian Chen’s nose with its snout.

Bennet silently masked his astonishment.

In the Interstellar Era, the “fluffies” had evolved and ruled the world. Even robots possessed more power and knowledge than ordinary humans. As an endangered species, humans seemed mediocre, weak, and fragile by comparison.

But perhaps Jian Chen himself didn’t realize how extraordinary all of this was.

Late at night.

Inside the little robot’s room, a pale blue disc was attached to Bennet’s temple, continuously providing power to the chip in his brain.

Androids didn’t actually need sleep—this was something Mr. Jian Chen didn’t know. Jian Chen naturally assumed that since Bennet now had a mechanical skeleton but human organs, he was half-human, and humans would drop dead if they didn’t rest for days.

Indeed, the little robot’s master was currently very focused on Bennet’s health.

Planet Moli, as a hub for dark trade, often conducted incomprehensible experimental activities. For an android like Bennet, even if his heart were ripped out and crushed, he could still survive normally. An android’s life resided in that chip in the brain.

But Bennet didn’t tell Mr. Jian Chen. Perhaps subconsciously, he wanted Mr. Jian Chen to worry about him occasionally. He didn’t ask for much. Just a little.

Bennet silently touched his chest. His heart beat steadily and powerfully. It beat for Mr. Jian Chen.

Bennet, whose name meant “Blessed,” had luckily found his master.

After charging, Bennet didn’t stand guard at the villa door as usual. Instead, he took the keys from the entryway, left the villa, and went to the backyard.

The android took out a flashlight. The beam was neither too bright nor too dim—just enough not to wake Mr. Jian Chen on the second floor.

Bennet’s voice traveled through the dark where the light didn’t reach; he whispered, “Dun Dun?”

No panda replied.

Bennet searched the backyard twice, calling the panda’s name, but received no response.

Bennet frowned slightly, his expression grave. A panda’s climbing ability was well known, but they knew Dun Dun’s ability—three meters at most. The possibility of escaping the yard was slim unless he was taken.

At the very least, before Bennet left, Dun Dun had not left the hibernation pod. The little robot could confirm this.

The war between the Zerg and the Empire had lasted three months. Logically, both Yesting and the original Jian Chen could have opened the pod. But the original Jian Chen had only seen the pod once, found it too dirty and old, put it in the backyard, and never touched it again.

Unless the original Jian Chen had accidentally discovered that the pod contained a panda and sold Dun Dun during Bennet’s absence. The probability of an accidental discovery was 12.6%; the probability of quietly selling Dun Dun without causing an interstellar sensation was 2%. Minute probabilities.

Bennet thought: Then it was Yesting.

Bennet lowered his eyes and quickly began analyzing possibilities.

“The probability of Dun Dun being left in the Imperial Palace by Yesting is 36% because Yesting trusts no one else.” “The probability of Dun Dun being left in the zoo to face the original Jian Chen is 9%.” “But the probability of Dun Dun being hidden in the zoo by Yesting is 54%.”

But Bennet didn’t understand why Yesting would release the panda from the pod now. Did he already know the real Mr. Jian Chen was going to appear?

Bennet silently left the backyard.

He arrived at the species zone closest to the Director’s villa, designated Zone A—the only enclosed area in the zoo, commonly known as the “Absolute Safety Zone.”

The species in the safety zone were gentle and harmless, mostly herbivores that at most ate pests and never attacked humans. For example, flat-billed ducks, herbivores, and sheep, alpacas, and deer that had existed since Ancient Earth…

Usually, tourists were allowed to enter here to get close to the animals.

Yet today, Mr. Jian Chen had encountered an attacked hog deer, which concerned Bennet. He wasn’t just here to try his luck in finding Dun Dun; he was also worried that a predator might have appeared in the safety zone, which was a major hazard for the zoo… and for Mr. Jian Chen.

Bennet planned to patrol Zone A and look for any gaps.

As an android, Bennet had excellent night vision. The flashlight he brought was to catch Dun Dun’s attention; the panda was cowardly and would squeak and bolt if it saw a bright light, making it very easy to spot.

As Bennet walked, he reached the end of the path.

Beside him, the internal passage he and Jian Chen had driven through that morning appeared. Through a layer of curved glass was a small door with two steps; tourists entered Zone A through this door.

Bennet stepped forward. Without using a key, he controlled his strength and tried to open the door. The door remained motionless.

Bennet nodded, confirming the door was secure and would not threaten Mr. Jian Chen.

However, just as he lowered his hand, he felt an inexplicably intense sense of pressure behind him.

Fear or panic did not surface on Bennet’s face; in fact, he had almost no expression at all—robots were very deficient in facial expressions.

A one-meter-tall male lion arched its back slightly, its predatory face gradually emerging from the darkness. The fur around its mouth was stained with blood, but the lion was strong and its fur wasn’t matted, indicating the big lion was well-fed and never let itself go hungry.

The standoff between the predator and the android lasted for ten full seconds. The night sky bore witness: the lion moved first.

The male lion lunged at the android with a coarse roar, but it was easily dodged.

“Roar—”

The lion roared angrily, tilted its head, and bit into Bennet’s calf.

This time, the android didn’t dodge. The massive mouth with powerful fangs bit into the flesh of the android’s calf, penetrating. Initially, it was smooth, and the lion even tasted blood, which spread in its mouth and greatly stimulated its wild instincts and killing intent.

But in the next second—

The lion’s fangs, which had never feared anything in its life, met their first obstacle. The teeth that usually pierced prey in one bite seemed to be stuck on something as hard as iron. The lion exerted more force, but it was useless; instead, its teeth hurt, as if they would… loosen if it kept biting.

It wondered, questioning its own lion life: Are the bones of prey always this hard? It felt like biting into a piece of steel.

The big lion refused to give in, its teeth not loosening one bit as it let out an angry roar, wanting to tear the human’s leg right off.

But in the next second…

The person above seemed to want it to let go, so he leaned down and gave the big lion a “flick” on the forehead with his index and middle fingers.

Lion: “!!!?”

The lion felt as though its head had suffered an indescribable heavy blow; for a moment, its ears rang. Its body wobbled, and it immediately let go.

That wasn’t a flick. That was a bolt from the blue, a lightning strike.

Then, something gripped the back of its neck.

The lion was dazed. When it was lifted up by the scruff, it realized in a daze that… was that a hand? It was being lifted by a human with one hand!? The entire lion was stunned.

Then, this tall human carried it, opened the door to the internal passage, and placed the lion on a seat in the sightseeing car. Bennet drove with one hand while holding the lion with the other, taking the lion on a tour of the other zones of the zoo.

The big lion never dreamed it would sit in a cable car with a human for a night tour of the zoo.

Bennet drove, but this time much faster than when he had carried Jian Chen. He slowed to a stop before a glass door marked with a sign: “Dangerous Beasts Zone.”

The big, now-obedient lion: “?”

Bennet gripped the lion’s scruff, used a key to open the glass door to the danger zone, and placed the lion on the ground.

Once free, the lion looked back blankly at this being who looked human but wasn’t.

Bennet waved at it. “Good luck.”

Then he turned, closed the door, and drove back.

Lion: “???”

Bennet had eliminated a major hazard for the zoo and breathed a slight sigh of relief. He returned to Zone A, opened the door, and went back to the spot where he had confronted the lion.

He leaned down and slowly wiped away his blood. He then went to the car and wiped the blood that had dripped inside. All that remained was his bloodstained pant leg; he needed to go back quickly, wash it, and mend it so he could continue showing Mr. Jian Chen around the zoo tomorrow.

As an android, Bennet’s sense of pain had been adjusted to the minimum; even when bitten by a predator, he didn’t feel much pain. He simply realized that if the lion kept biting, the skin would tear, which would scare his master. So he gave the lion a light flick.

As for Dun Dun, Bennet found no clues today. If he could find Dun Dun, Mr. Jian Chen would surely be very surprised.

As for Yesting…

Bennet lowered his eyes. Today, he had hidden from Jian Chen the fact that Yesting had not died. Not only was he alive, but he had become the Monarch of the Empire. He was currently engaged in a bloody battle with the Zerg, and according to internal information Bennet had found, something seemed to have happened to Yesting; he might not return safely.

The little robot had no great interest in Yesting’s life or death. But he cared very much that if Yesting returned safely, would he immediately find Jian Chen, realize the truth of his transmigration, and discover that the current Jian Chen was the very person everyone missed so dearly?

In truth, the little robot didn’t want his master to be found by Yesting.

Thousands of years ago, when the comet struck Earth, Yesting didn’t appear for two full months. If Yesting had been by Mr. Jian Chen’s side when the first comet fragment hit, perhaps his master wouldn’t have been injured and bled, nor would he have died alone after sending Bennet and Dun Dun into the hibernation pod.

Was the mission that important? …More important than family?

On this point, Bennet wasn’t sure if his feeling could be called hatred. But the only thing he was sure of was that Yesting could not be allowed to get close to Mr. Jian Chen again.

Even now, when Jian Chen had finally appeared in the Interstellar Era, Yesting was not by his side but hundreds of millions of light-years away, fighting the Zerg. After thousands of years, nothing had changed.

A look of determination and resolve appeared in Bennet’s eyes. He was no longer the little robot who could do nothing. Two years ago, he voluntarily accepted modification on Planet Moli to become an enhanced android. He wasn’t a predator, but he was better at fighting than any predator.

Now, he had the ability to protect Mr. Jian Chen. No matter what the world became.

Hundreds of billions of light-years from the Empire.

The Serya Galaxy.

A silver-gray warship glided slowly. In the vastness of space, time and speed were stretched infinitely; from a distance, the warship seemed steady and slow, but in reality, the main hull was flying at a speed of 7 million light-years per hour.

With a sharp prow, a sleek and sharp hull, and a cold silver-gray exterior without a hint of brightness, this warship wouldn’t win first place in a beauty pageant, but it was definitely the ship no one would want to fight.

And this main warship was currently on its way back to the Federal Empire. Behind it followed countless black sub-warships. Though numerous, they were organized in a perfect, fluid formation—clearly a strictly trained Imperial Guard.

However, an inconspicuous insect-like creature gripped the rear edge of the main warship with its forelimbs. In the vast star sea, this creature remained hidden, lurking, waiting for its moment.

But it was no ordinary Zerg.

—It was the Zerg King.

The Zerg King was entirely black, with a sharp, pitch-black hard shell on its back like impenetrable armor. It was larger than all other Zerg, yet its body was exceptionally agile. Strikingly, it had golden markings on its body that had grown brighter with the passage of time.

The Zerg King’s eyes narrowed into slits—a posture of combat readiness. If one could listen to its brainwaves and emotional indicators, they would find that this cold Zerg King’s rage was already off the charts. It seemed to be brewing a fight to the death.

In the next second, its forelimbs flashed with a sharp light as it resolutely lunged into the launcher at the rear of the silver main warship! For the Zerg, this was a fight to the death.

The subordinates on the sub-warships immediately noticed something was wrong. The alarm on His Majesty’s ship had just lit up for three seconds, only to be extinguished instantly! As if something had forcibly snuffed it out.

The officers swallowed hard, wondering if the anomaly was just an illusion.

Old Marshal Yu’s ship was adjacent to the main ship. His face was grave, his voice condensed and steady as he quickly identified the problem: “His Majesty’s ship has deviated from its course!”

Marshal Yu issued an order: “Activate the auxiliary pod! Get His Majesty off that ship!!”

“Yes!” An officer turned to carry out the order. The officer broke into a cold sweat, but he had absolute faith in the Old Marshal’s judgment.

This Old Marshal Yu was said to have fused with eagle genes and, like His Majesty, was a hybrid who had lived since the Ancient Earth era. Though he was already elderly when the genes were injected, his strength and combat ability after thousands of years of evolution were not inferior to the evolved animals at all. In fact, he was even more powerful.

But just as the young officer began to execute the auxiliary pod command, he found that the previously functional buttons had failed. He pressed them repeatedly, but the ship gave no response.

He felt a sudden chill. A bad premonition rose in his mind. Could it be…

He turned his head and saw a Zerg creature striking the main glass of the sub-warship with its forelimbs. Then, more Zerg appeared in an endless stream, densely surrounding the hulls of all the sub-warships!!

The officer’s eyes widened in horror. Hadn’t they already wiped out the Zerg? Why were they appearing around the warships again to restart the battle?! Were the Zerg… immortal?

He clutched his head. The continuous hard fighting had pushed the mental state of both officers and soldiers to the breaking point.

Old Marshal Yu shouted loudly, “Everyone, pull yourselves together!”

“His Majesty is still fighting the Zerg King; do you want to be deserters? Your families are waiting for our return in the Empire. Do you really want to die here? Are you willing!?”

The officers shuddered, startled awake. Just two sentences, but full of vigor. No matter how many Zerg there were, they couldn’t die here.

The sub-warships quickly adjusted their formation, their weapon ports firing continuously as Zerg swarmed and were destroyed, charred.

Marshal Yu withdrew his gaze, his worried eyes fixed on His Majesty’s ship through the glass window. The course had deviated, and they were surrounded by layers of Zerg.

What should they do? He didn’t know what kind of battle was taking place inside the main ship between His Majesty and the Zerg King.

The Old Marshal clutched his heart; in the high-pressure environment, he felt stabs of pain in his chest.

He prayed in his heart: Your Majesty, please be safe.

And he couldn’t help but worry. If forced to crash, where would His Majesty’s ship fall?