After leaving the hotel—
Gu Heng frowned, inexplicably restless at the memory of the cold, dim look in Zuo Shihuan’s eyes. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was slipping out of his grasp, veering off track, stirring a rare unease within him.
But it was only to retrieve an old mecha toy for Zuo Shihuan. What secret could there possibly be behind that? And yet, wasn’t he already the one going off track now?
He had never thought a Federation Alpha could unsettle him, but this would end here. Once this errand was done, he would let Zuo Shihuan go.
That was already a rare kindness from him.
Gu Heng’s expression returned to its usual cold calm. He started up a dark gray hovercar—ordinary in model and color, so inconspicuous it could blend into any street.
“Wake up.”
A pair of icy, digitized eyes flickered onto the display screen. It was the Empire’s highest-grade AI system. Though the hovercar’s exterior looked simple, it was loaded with top-secret empire technology—its weapon systems rivaling that of an S-class mecha.
“Yes, Master.”
“Calculate the route to Baile Star.”
“Destination: Baile Star. Estimated time under normal driving mode—twelve days and six hours. Due to distance, possible delays from asteroid belts or cosmic storms are expected.”
…Twelve days.
By the time he returned, more than twenty days would have passed.
For an interstellar journey, it wasn’t especially long or short. Gu Heng could easily hand his duties over to Ji Shenwen or have a subordinate retrieve the item for him. There was no real need to go through all this trouble for a promise to Zuo Shihuan.
He sat alone in the hovercar, eyes closed, brows tight. In his mind surfaced that pale, mocking face from before he left.
Something was off about Zuo Shihuan—his instincts told him so.
Gu Heng’s expression grew darker and more tense. A vague, gnawing sense of wrongness made his pulse tighten—it felt like he was missing something crucial.
There was no helping it.
His eyes snapped open, sharp light glinting in the black depths.
“This will take too long,” he said to the AI. “Activate spatial warp mode.”
“Warning! Warning!! Individual spatial warp technology remains incomplete and highly dangerous. During warp turbulence, low-grade genetic bodies may be torn apart. This is a red-level hazard. Proceed with extreme caution!”
Spatial warp—humanity’s most advanced technology—allowed travel across vast distances in moments. But its instability was deadly; many who entered unprepared were crushed by the turbulent forces of space itself.
Still, the technology was of immense strategic value. During the wars with the Zerg, it revolutionized long-range supply and assault operations—until massive warp bases became easy targets.
To counter that, the Empire developed condensed individual warp modules. Unlike full-size bases, they drastically reduced the required area—but increased personal risk. Only those with extremely high physical resilience could survive the crushing pressure of the warp. Anyone below Grade A would have their body instantly destroyed upon entry.
Few could withstand it. Ordinary people who accidentally entered warp turbulence would be shredded to atoms.
The system on Gu Heng’s vehicle was an experimental prototype—meant as a last resort for the Crown Prince’s escape if his identity were ever exposed.
Faced with the AI’s warning, Gu Heng remained firm.
“Proceed,” he said quietly. “Engage now.”
“Understood, Master.”
[Spatial warp initializing… 60 seconds to launch… 60, 59, 58…]
The dark gray hovercar sped away from the hotel. When the countdown reached ten seconds, it reached the dim wilderness—and vanished from view, leaving not a trace behind.
***
Baile Star
Time there differed little from the capital. In the middle of the quiet night, at a blind spot on a deserted street corner, a dark gray hovercar suddenly materialized.
It blended seamlessly into the shadows of Baile Star’s streets.
Destination: Jiaan Residential Complex.
Gu Heng stepped out, his sharp black eyes sweeping the complex’s sign. His face was unusually pale—the first-time strain of a personal warp had sapped much of his strength. His forearms remained taut, as though still resisting the violent spatial turbulence.
Only when he breathed in the planet’s cool night air, feeling gravity return beneath his feet, did his body begin to relax.
His gaze flicked toward the drowsy guard slumped at the gatehouse, then to the surveillance cameras at the entrance.
A moment later—
Gu Heng’s figure blurred, slipping silently into the complex.
A faint wind stirred. The sleepy guard blinked awake, saw nothing but the locked gate, and—relieved—tilted his head back to doze again.
“This isn’t some rich neighborhood,” he mumbled. “Who’d bother breaking in?”
But—
A shadowed figure was already moving through the quiet depths of the complex that night.
The security cameras flickered with erratic red light. Those thermal sensors that could track even a passing gnat seemed utterly blind to the unfamiliar man moving through the complex.
At the gatehouse, the security guard snored with his head tilted back, while the monitors before him showed nothing—no trace of the intruder. Every feed displayed the same thing: an empty, peaceful neighborhood.
It looked like an ordinary, quiet night in Jiaan Residential Complex.
In front of Building A13, Gu Heng’s cold gaze lifted toward a window on the tenth floor.
That was where Zuo Shihuan’s mother—who had abandoned him years ago—now lived. He had already investigated everything in the brief time he’d had.
Zuo Shihuan’s mother had married an ordinary beta man and borne a beta son, now over six years old. The neighbors spoke well of this family of three.
The husband, Gu Heng found, was a good man; the wife—a beautiful, gentle beta—was known as kind and soft-spoken, a devoted mother and considerate neighbor. Their only child, a first-grader, was shy and obedient.
They appeared to be nothing more than a simple, happy beta family.
But digging further told a different story.
The woman—Yu Cha—had come from elsewhere. When she first arrived on Baile Star, she squandered money recklessly and was later caught taking substances banned by local law. She spent several hazy years in a rehabilitation hospital, until she met the man who became her husband—a retired beta soldier wounded in battle and suffering from post-war trauma. Only then did her life settle into what it was now.
But word had spread widely: the Zuo family’s newly found Alpha heir came from the slums, and even the family’s name had become a joke—picking up an heir out of the garbage. Zuo Shihuan’s mother herself had once lived in those same slums, doing nothing productive.
So where, exactly, had she gotten the money she’d squandered in those early years?
Gu Heng’s black eyes darkened—and then he gave a faint, cold smile.
He didn’t intend to do anything more. Zuo Shihuan had only one request of him: that no one find out, and that the item rightfully his be retrieved.
If that’s what he wanted, Gu Heng would get it for him.
A shadow leapt, climbed, and flickered between floors.
With precise, catlike movements, he scaled the ten-story wall as though walking on flat ground. For someone used to moving across the flailing limbs of giant Zerg beasts, the solid stillness of a building’s exterior was nothing.
In the blink of an eye, Gu Heng stood outside the tenth-floor window.
A cool night breeze lifted the curtains. Moonlight spilled into a cozy children’s room— and a dark silhouette appeared on the floor.
Inside was a tidy, warmly lit space filled with toys and model cars, scattered blocks, and comic books spread over the small desk.
The only sound of breathing came from the little bed in the center of the room, beneath a cartoon blanket, forming a small, rounded shape.
That must be Zuo Shihuan’s half-brother.
Gu Heng’s expression didn’t change.
He turned away, scanning the toys, looking for some sign of Zuo Shihuan’s old mecha model.
The desk was cluttered with comics and homework.
—Nothing.
Only a framed family photo.
His gaze lingered despite himself. The woman in the picture smiled softly, her light-brown eyes warm and clear as a breeze over still water reflecting the sunset.
She looked a little like—
But—
Gu Heng’s face hardened. He flipped the photo face down.
No.
Not alike at all.
Not like that cold, heartless, forgetful woman.
Zuo Shihuan as he was now—perfect.
He didn’t need to resemble anyone.
Gu Heng turned to the cabinet.
Inside were blocks and mecha models—
but not the one he sought.
Minutes later, after sweeping the entire room, he confirmed there were no hidden compartments. So the thing must not be here.
He would have to look elsewhere.
His gaze slid toward the wooden door leading to the living room.
Then—something shifted.
Just as he was about to leave, back turned, he caught a subtle change in breathing behind him.
The little boy on the bed had thrown off his blanket.
A glow lit up the room.
“So stuffy… Should’ve known better than to read comics under the blanket with a flashlight. Ended up falling asleep.”
The boy mumbled, rubbing his eyes. Freckles dotted his face. A small flashlight glowed beside him, illuminating the blanket and the open comic book on his lap.
Blinking drowsily, he froze—
There was a tall, handsome man standing in his room.
Xia Canming startled, blurting out,
“Who are you?”
The children’s room, now fully lit, threw its light across Gu Heng’s face. His pupils, unadjusted from the dark, contracted sharply.
Facing the boy’s question, Gu Heng narrowed his cold black eyes, expression unreadable, meeting the gaze of this little night-owl who refused to sleep.
