To the trembling hostages, the pirates had always seemed towering and fearsome, requiring several people together to even dare fight back.
But no matter how strong the pirates looked, they were nothing compared to the Zerg. Pirates could only bully ordinary people—if they met a Zerg, they wouldn’t even have time to run.
Gu Heng, however, was a top-tier Alpha—so powerful that even high-level Zerg fled at the sight of him. In solo combat, he was unmatched. And once he stopped pretending and unleashed his fangs, the so-called “formidable” pirates couldn’t even withstand half a second against him.
As the men around him fell one after another, the pirates screamed and fired wildly. “Monster! Monster—die!”
But with his extraordinary dynamic vision, Gu Heng could see every bullet’s trajectory clearly. He didn’t even bother dodging—just charged straight toward the pirate who had fired.
A sharp gleam of the blade flashed.
The pirate, gasping after emptying his clip, stared through the smoke and scattered shells, thinking he must have hit the monster at least once—only for his eyes to be suddenly blinded by a slicing flash of light.
It took a few seconds for the pirate to react—then, in terror, he realized he couldn’t speak. A spray of blood burst before his eyes, gushing from his own throat—and he collapsed to the ground, dead.
Gu Heng flicked the blood from his custom-made dagger with an indifferent motion. Even pulling the trigger on a gun felt too slow for him.
If the Star Pirate Group weren’t already about to flee by ship, he could have wiped out the entire group on his own. After all, he’d once fought Zerg for days and nights without rest. At least the high-level Zerg could trade a few blows with him—but these ordinary pirates couldn’t even touch a single hair on his head.
He felt both bored and irritated.
Frowning, Gu Heng swept his gaze across the crowd, wondering if he could somehow pick out the citizens of the Empire and take them straight home.
As for the rest—the Federation citizens—those could be left for the Federation police to handle.
But he didn’t see a single hostage wearing Empire clothing. After thousands of years of intermixing, there was hardly any visible difference between Federation and Empire people anyway—every combination of skin tone, eye color, and hair color existed. It was impossible to tell who was who.
That made things troublesome.
Gunfire echoed across the area, and it was all too likely that an Imperial citizen might be among the wounded—or the dead.
Gu Heng’s expression grew darker by the moment. Anyone who accidentally met his gaze—whether pirate or captive—screamed in panic, as if the god of death himself had descended upon them.
“There’s no time—Ji Shenwen, where did you run off to?!”
Gu Heng’s sharp eyes scanned the crowd and shouted coldly.
It was really his own fault—he’d run off too far without realizing it. Ji Shenwen was still near Mine No. 11, unshackling hostages. From afar, he heard the Crown Prince’s voice calling out to him.
“I’m coming!”
Ji Shenwen tilted his head back to respond, then turned again to free an Omega mother and her child from their chains. His voice was warm and sincere as he said, “We’re here to help you. The Federation police will be here soon—hold on a little longer, and you’ll be able to go home.”
At the mention of “home,” the Omega mother and child’s eyes welled with tears. They choked out a trembling, “Thank you.”
Ji Shenwen smiled. “You’re welcome. This is what we should do—protecting civilians is our duty. And the person who spoke to you earlier was my superior. He just wanted to clarify your Alpha husband’s situation so we can help you better. Please don’t take it the wrong way. I’ve got to go now—my superior’s waiting.”
The Omega blinked in surprise. She never would have guessed the two came from the same side—especially since that “superior” of his looked more like a pirate leader than an officer.
Just as she opened her mouth to ask, “About my Alpha husband—how will the Federation police handle him—”
No one answered.
Ji Shenwen had already dashed off, afraid the Crown Prince would grow impatient.
And indeed—he had.
Gu Heng had already stripped off his cumbersome pirate disguise. His short black hair fell loose, revealing a face so strikingly handsome that even those in the midst of fleeing couldn’t help but glance his way. Young, tall, and broad-shouldered, dressed in black leather boots, he carried an air of commanding authority.
But at that moment, his expression was sour, arms crossed, brows knit tightly as he looked toward the breathless Ji Shenwen, irritation flickering in his eyes.
“What took you so long to get back?”
Ji Shenwen bowed his head apologetically. “I’m sorry, Your Highness. I thought I could free a few more hostages—to make it easier for them to escape.”
Gu Heng narrowed his eyes. “Forget it. Contact our people immediately. Tell the Federation police to get here as fast as possible. Normal rescue procedures are too slow.”
He looked up at the yellow sky thick with swirling sand. Somewhere, the sealed mine tunnel had opened up, and the pirates’ ships were beginning to rise into the air.
Gu Heng’s black eyes turned icy. His voice was like a blade. “Those useless Federation patrols—since when do they ever move at pirate speed? It’s fine if the Empire planted agents among them, but they even let small-time pirates slip through. What a sieve.”
He didn’t think there was anything wrong with what he said.
In his view, it was only natural for the Empire to have spies in the Federation—two neighboring nations with a history of tension, where intermarriage and politics intertwined.
It would’ve been strange not to keep watch. And he was sure the Federation did the same in return— the only question was whether he could catch them.
Ji Shenwen quickly sent a coded message and soon received a reply. His eyes lit up. “Your Highness! They’ll be here as fast as possible!”
“Good.”
Gu Heng’s gaze locked on the pirate ships ascending into the sky. A bloodthirsty smile curved his lips. “Before the Federation police get here—anyone you see, take them down. Leave no one behind.”
Ji Shenwen straightened his posture, raised his gun, and answered firmly, “Yes, Your Highness!”
***
Meanwhile, on the other side—
Unaware of the disaster about to strike, the pirates were still hurriedly loading supplies. One of them shouted toward a tall, brown-haired man standing frozen before a ship,
“Gao Chengjiang! Quit standing there and help already! Don’t worry—the boss said he’s sending people to get your family aboard safely!”
The man addressed—Gao Chengjiang—furrowed his brow, his eyes darkening.
He was the Omega mother’s husband, an A-class Alpha forced into piracy, compelled to commit countless acts against his will.
The last thing he wanted was for his family to board the pirates’ ship. He wanted them as far away as possible. He had finally heard word that the Federation police were coming—the one glimmer of hope for escape.
But when he heard that the pirate boss had sent people specifically to retrieve his family, he realized they meant to use them against him once again.
A cold, hard light flashed in his eyes. Clenching his fists, he said firmly, “No. I can’t trust that. I’ll go check on them myself.”
He was just about to charge off when a deafening explosion shook the ground. Gao Chengjiang froze—then looked up toward the sky.
To be precise—he looked at a ship that had just risen into the air.
The cockpit’s windshield burst open with a hole. Suddenly, a figure was thrown out of the ship — the pirate plummeted, screaming in agony, as blood sprayed midair. Smoke billowed from the propellers at the rear.
Soon after, the ship, somehow under someone else’s control, slowly began to descend.
The hatch opened. Crowds of chained hostages stumbled out in confusion and terror, thinking they had barely escaped death in a crash.
But Gao Chengjiang sensed something off.
As expected, things didn’t go smoothly.
One after another, pirate ships were either smoking or losing control — even the pilots themselves thought they were seeing ghosts.
As the situation spiraled out of control, the pirate leader quickly noticed that two people were causing chaos. He immediately ordered every pirate to capture those two fools who dared to go against their crew.
Gao Chengjiang, being a capable A-rank Alpha, was naturally named among those who had to join the hunt.
On the surface, Gao Chengjiang agreed readily. But inside, he had other plans.
Meanwhile, back on Gu Heng’s side—
After taking down several ships in a row, it was inevitable that he’d drawn the pirates’ attention. More and more of them came chasing after him.
Gu Heng, of course, wasn’t afraid — but as defeated pirates began recklessly surrounding him, his movements were hindered. Every second wasted meant another ship could take off and escape.
A ruthless glint flashed in Gu Heng’s eyes. He kicked aside another attacker blocking his path, then drove his specially-made dagger straight into a propeller spinning at high speed.
Sparks flew where the blade clashed with the rotor.
Gu Heng ignored it completely, tightening his grip on the dagger, forcing it inch by inch into the whirling blades.
Ash and sparks spattered across his face, darkening his cheeks, but his sharp black eyes didn’t waver in the slightest. With sheer brute strength, he severed one of the propeller blades — forcing the pirate ship that had been lifting off to a dead stop.
To onlookers, he looked like a madman, a savage beast unafraid of death.
The pirates who witnessed it couldn’t help but feel a twisted awe toward him — but still, terrified, trembling, they kept firing their guns.
Because if that deranged monster turned his head their way, the first thing he’d do was slaughter them.
A storm of bullets burst forth—
Gu Heng frowned slightly at the sheer density of gunfire raining down.
The crackling bullets pounded against the dagger and the ship’s hull, louder and more rapid than firecrackers on New Year’s Eve.
But soon the barrage was drowned out by the deafening sound of an explosion.
A shockwave blasted open a clearing in the crowd of pirates — and from the rolling smoke and gunpowder haze, a familiar figure walked out.
Ji Shenwen brushed at a scorched lock of hair on his forehead. He had almost lost his hair to a stray spark from a bomb, but the moment he saw His Highness Gu Heng, he dropped his hand and said brightly, with loyal eyes: “Apologies for the wait, Your Highness. There were too many pirates, so I needed a bit more time to mix the grenades.”
Amusement flickered in Gu Heng’s eyes. He smiled faintly and stretched out a hand toward Ji Shenwen.
Understanding immediately, Ji Shenwen handed over all the grenades he had left.
The next moment, His Highness was wielding the grenades himself — and with astonishing force and precision, he began hurling them at distant targets, striking the pirate ships that were about to take off or already in the air.
Every throw hit dead-on. It was like watching the perfect blend of violence and art.
The pirates were the tragic ones — their losses were devastating. Ship after ship was severely damaged. Even those lucky enough to take off fled in terror, accelerating at reckless speeds beyond fuel limits just to escape alive.
Standing off to the side, Ji Shenwen felt a chill in his heart. He pitied the pirates — having an enemy like His Highness was the greatest misfortune imaginable.
But then he thought of how His Highness Gu Heng stood on the Empire’s side, protecting its citizens, and that thought filled him with profound relief.
“How long until the Federation patrols get here?” Gu Heng asked, glancing sideways.
Ji Shenwen blinked — he had almost forgotten they were even coming. Checking the latest report, he answered, “Roughly ten minutes.”
Gu Heng gave a cold snort. “If they take any longer, might as well have them disband on the spot.”
Ji Shenwen laughed lightly in agreement.
In truth, he shared the sentiment — compared to the Empire’s efficiency, the Federation’s bureaucracy was riddled with corruption and delay. It was no wonder they could never measure up.
To stall for the ten minutes until the patrols arrived, Gu Heng and Ji Shenwen split up to act, rushing around like firefighters putting out blazes.
The scene was chaos — pirates and fleeing hostages were mixed together, a sea of indistinguishable black and white sheep, all crying, bleeding, and shouting for help.
“I’m not going! Let us go! Someone—please, save us—!”
And there it was.
Gu Heng frowned, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, his sharp eyes sweeping toward the source of the cries.
He spotted it — at the open hatch of a ship, it was that same bullied Omega mother and child. They were clinging to the doorframe, refusing to go in. The shackles on their wrists were gone — Ji Shenwen’s work, no doubt.
But it hadn’t done much good. A few pirates had seized the Omega’s son, and as the desperate mother looked at her crying child, her grip on the door slowly loosened.
The boy’s crying was piercing.
Annoyed, Gu Heng furrowed his brows — he had no choice but to stride over and silence the noise.
Did he cry like that when he was little?
He thought for a moment. He didn’t think so. The closest he ever came to crying was—
When he was a child, playing in the Empire Palace gardens, he accidentally fell from a rockery. His knee had been scraped raw, bleeding — the pain had almost brought him to tears. But just then, he’d caught sight of his mother, the Empress, walking through the garden. She was speaking gently to her attendant, covering her lips as she laughed.
For some reason, the young Gu Heng froze where he was, letting his blood mix with the dirt and dust beneath the rockery, looking utterly bedraggled.
Even as a boy, proud and stubborn, Gu Heng had never liked showing weakness. But that day, the sunlight had been so warm — and maybe, seeing his younger siblings being doted on by their mothers over the past few days…
The scene stirred something in his heart—a flicker of curiosity. Pushing away the servant who had tried to help him up, he mimicked the way a spoiled child would act, widening his big, watery black eyes. Nervous and uneasy, he quietly looked toward his mother, who was walking over.
He hadn’t expected that the moment she saw him, her brows would furrow deeply. The smile on her face vanished at once, replaced by a look of fear and disgust. She turned away and took another path.
That cold, evasive attitude—
In that instant, young Gu Heng understood. His dark eyes turned hard and cold. Enduring the pain, he stood up without changing his expression. From that day on, he never cried again.
And he never again showed his weakness or disheveled state, hoping someone would turn back to look at him.
Back to the present—
Gu Heng coldly kicked aside a star pirate blocking his way, swiftly taking down the ones who had captured the Omega and her child. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he tossed one of their guns in front of the Omega.
“Do you know how to use this?”
The Omega, still dazed after the despair of being captured, looked up blankly at the tall figure of Gu Heng. When she saw the star pirates lying on the ground, her tense nerves finally eased. Trembling slightly, her dry lips moved as she stammered a thank-you.
“Thank you. You must be an officer from the Federation, right? Thank you for saving my child and me.”
“You’re mistaken. I’m not,” Gu Heng corrected coldly.
The Omega and her child looked confused again. The mother quickly tried to smooth things over, saying, “Then you must be a brave and good man. Thank you for risking your life to save us.”
For an Empire citizen to be called a “good person” by someone from the Federation—it wasn’t exactly a compliment.
Gu Heng’s lips curved faintly, but the smile vanished as quickly as it came.
“The Federation police aren’t here yet. They’ll arrive in about ten minutes. You probably won’t make it out on your own—too many pirates outside. I don’t have time to look after you. So, do you know how to use a gun?”
The Omega and her child blinked in confusion. “Huh?”
Gu Heng frowned, growing impatient. “The gun. Release the safety. You can fire it to protect yourselves while you run.”
Under his sharp gaze, the Omega stammered, “I-I’ll try.”
She picked up the gun beside the pirate’s body, forcing herself not to look at it. Hands trembling, she fumbled with it, then mustered the courage to glance at Gu Heng.
Under his steady gaze, she released the safety and pulled the trigger upward toward the sky.
Bang!
It worked!
The Omega looked at him, eyes shining with excitement.
She thought the cold man wouldn’t respond, but he surprised her by saying, “Not bad. Just make sure next time you aim at a pirate instead of wasting another bullet.”
He even took a moment to teach her a few handling techniques. The Omega listened attentively, nodding earnestly.
But peace never lasted long.
Before Gu Heng could finish half his cigarette, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed from nearby. His brows knitted in displeasure.
He crushed the cigarette under his boot.
Narrowing his eyes dangerously, he said to the Omega and her child, “More pirates are coming. Run west. This time, don’t get caught again.”
The Omega looked at him with worry.
“Go,” Gu Heng barked coldly. “Don’t get in the way.”
Startled, the Omega and her child immediately began to run. “Thank you! Please take care of yourself!”
The little boy, clutching his mother’s hand, looked back at the tall, heroic figure of Gu Heng and shouted brightly, “You can do it, cool uncle! You’ll beat the bad star pirates for sure!”
Uncle?
Gu Heng frowned.
He wasn’t even twenty yet—an Alpha at the peak of his prime—and somehow, he’d been called “uncle.”
He really didn’t like kids.
His brief distraction ended quickly.
A group of twenty or thirty star pirates rushed in. They clearly knew how dangerous Gu Heng was, bringing along heavy weapons—rocket launchers—and switching to higher-grade automatic rifles.
They raised a rocket launcher, aiming straight at Gu Heng standing in the open.
Seeing those weapons—hardly obtainable except through military channels—made the cold gleam in his eyes grow sharper. Even as an S-class Alpha, he wasn’t foolish enough to take a direct hit.
But the pirates had suffered under him before.
They knew his speed was terrifying. Once he vanished from sight, it meant he was already cutting down their comrades. So they went mad, firing wildly as if bullets cost nothing.
The barrage of gunfire tried to pin Gu Heng down.
Even when he shifted position, the rocket launcher tracked him relentlessly.
His expression grew impatient.
He wasn’t the kind to surrender. A few mere pirates couldn’t hold him down.
Gu Heng’s black eyes gleamed coldly as he stared straight at the rocket launcher. The special dagger in his hand flickered—and at some point, had transformed into a weapon glowing with blue light.
Then, suddenly—something unexpected happened.
A young pirate wearing a cap suddenly lifted the rocket launcher that had been aimed at Gu Heng and fired it upward—toward the empty sky.
No, not quite empty.
The rocket shell, pulled by gravity, began plummeting straight back down.
The young pirate with the cap vanished, leaving behind only a group of confused pirates who hadn’t realized what had just happened—
BOOM!!!
A mushroom-shaped cloud rose into the air.
The entire pirate gang—dozens strong—was wiped out in an instant. Those not dead were maimed. The few survivors screamed in rage and terror, turning on the young pirate who had caused it all.
“Gao Chengjiang! Are you insane?! You just killed all of us!”
“I’m not insane,” Gao Chengjiang said in a terrifyingly calm voice. “I know exactly what I’m doing.”
He picked up a machine gun from a fallen pirate and opened fire on the remaining survivors.
Once again, the shadow of death descended upon them.
The panicked pirates forgot all about their original target. Trampling over their comrades’ corpses, they fled—only for more to fall, one after another, under the relentless sound of gunfire.
The star pirates who came to their senses realized this wouldn’t do and immediately scattered, moving separately. Eyes red with fury, they charged at Gao Chengjiang to attack. “Gao Chengjiang, you traitor to the pirate gang—I’ll fight you to the death!”
“I never belonged to the pirate gang to begin with, so how could I be a traitor?”
Facing the pirates who sprang at him, Gao Chengjiang couldn’t use the machine gun in close quarters, so he fought hand-to-hand. Surrounded by several pirates, he nonetheless counterattacked in an orderly way.
Relying on the strength and reflexes of an A-rank Alpha, plus the practical combat training he’d been forced to endure since joining the pirates, within minutes every pirate lay on the ground, unable to move.
Gu Heng watched this internal pirate uprising with considerable interest.
The belated Federation police finally arrived.
Ship after ship with official markings flew by in neat formation overhead, repeatedly broadcasting warnings to the remaining pirates and comforting the hostages.
“Attention, pirates on the ground — you are surrounded by Federation patrols. Drop your weapons immediately! Release the hostages! Do not resist!”
“Pirates who resist should not blame our fleet’s missiles for showing no mercy!”
“Those who surrender may receive lenient sentences!”
Gao Chengjiang took off his cap and looked up at the Federation police he had longed to see. The glare of the sunlight stung his bloodshot, weary eyes; he wanted to cry out but couldn’t.
Only one thought remained in his mind.
It’s finally over.
Gao Chengjiang bowed his head. His tense body suddenly relaxed; his stiff back bent, and with a thud he half-knelt on the ground strewn with pirate corpses. The machine gun in his hands slid to his feet.
Gu Heng stepped up in front of him.
Gao Chengjiang lifted his head in exhaustion and saw Gu Heng. He was the first to speak: “Thank you. You just saved my Omega wife and child—if not for you, I wouldn’t have been able to focus on dealing with the pirates.”
Gu Heng understood.
This man was the Alpha husband of the Omega mother and child—forced, by the pirate leader’s wicked means, into becoming one of the pirates.
Gao Chengjiang continued: “You must be a Federation officer. Although I’m dressed in pirate clothes, I didn’t willingly become a pirate. If you want to know everything about the pirate gang, I can tell you all—the ins and outs of their leaders…”
After Gao Chengjiang had explained much of the pirates’ internal situation, he suddenly took out a sheet of paper and handed it to Gu Heng.
“I tried to escape before, but failed each time. Once, I stumbled into a strange place. I trust you are a good person; I hope this information will let you completely destroy the pirate gang so ordinary people won’t suffer anymore…”
Gu Heng took the paper and found it was a rough map, with one location marked in red.
Before Gu Heng could ask more—
“Finally… please bring a message to my family. Tell my Omega wife Ahui not to wait for me anymore. Either remove the mark, or remarry—take the child and live well. I will always miss them—”
Gao Chengjiang, resolved to die, lifted the gun to his temple to end his life.
He would sooner be captured by the Federation police and found out to be a murderer; rather than wait for a death sentence, he preferred to die now and not burden his family.
Gao Chengjiang closed his eyes and pulled the trigger.
But Gu Heng, who had been watching, wasn’t about to let such an interesting Alpha be wasted; he immediately stopped him.
The gun was knocked away.
A gunshot rang out, and the bullet flew over Gao Chengjiang’s head.
Gao Chengjiang opened his eyes, disappointed to find himself still alive. His weary, world-weary eyes turned to Gu Heng.
“Officer, you don’t need to save me. It’s useless. After joining the pirates I did many things that harmed innocents—I can’t return to being a spotless Federation citizen. My family being rescued is enough; I have no regrets.”
Gu Heng smiled and said, “If you can’t be a Federation citizen anymore, how about becoming a citizen of the Empire?”
Gao Chengjiang was stunned: “What?”
Gu Heng: “I’m not Federation police. I saved you and your family—I’m an Empire citizen. The debts you owe should be repaid to the Empire. I want you to atone by serving the Empire. Will you do it?”
Gao Chengjiang’s pupils trembled; he was torn.
He sometimes envied the Empire’s strength and prosperity, but he had never considered giving up his identity as a Federation citizen; his wife and child were, without question, Federation people.
Yet—
The ones who saved his whole family were Empire citizens—people from a nation hostile to the Federation.
Gao Chengjiang pounded his head against the ground in anguish, wishing he had died from that bullet and been spared this torment. In the end he clenched his fist and ground out, “I can give you my life back, but I really can’t do that. If the outside world finds out, how could my family bear the judgmental looks?”
Gu Heng sneered coldly: “Don’t worry. You don’t yet have that capability. I only want you to infiltrate the pirate gang once more and give me intelligence.”
No pirate gang had ever angered Gu Heng so much.
If this gang hadn’t mainly operated within Federation territory, Gu Heng would long ago have led Imperial troops to wipe out this audacious band who dared kidnap Imperial citizens!
Gao Chengjiang, stunned: “That’s it? Just that—I infiltrate the pirate gang to atone?”
Gu Heng said coldly, “What else? Most of the pirates who met you have already died. This gang suffered heavy losses this time; you can take advantage of the situation to get in, gain their favor, and pass messages to me.”
“As for exchange, I’ll assign people to look after your family. When this is over I’ll clear your record. After that, you can do what you like.”
Having said that, Gao Chengjiang clenched his fists. It seemed he could not refuse: he did not want to leave his family, nor did he want to let the pirate gang that destroyed their lives go unpunished.
“Fine, I promise you!”
Gu Heng tossed over a black communicator. Gao Chengjiang hurriedly caught it.
“A communication device—don’t let anyone find out about it. It works even in areas with signal jamming. You can use it to send intel to me. Once your family has settled down, I’ll also update you on their situation.”
Gao Chengjiang looked again at the plain, unremarkable black communicator in his hand, his gaze now more solemn.
“Alright, enough talk. You’d better hurry and catch the last fleeing star pirate ship.”
“Yes, sir!”
***
After Gao Chengjiang left, Gu Heng took the rough map he had given him and really began to look for the red-marked location, passing through one cave after another like a labyrinth.
Fortunately, most of the star pirates were already gone, saving him a lot of trouble.
As Gu Heng approached the deepest part of the cave, the surrounding walls turned into metallic panels, and the number of surveillance cameras began to increase.
At first, he hadn’t thought Gao Chengjiang’s intel was anything special, but seeing this, Gu Heng’s eyes grew thoughtful.
He stepped through an automatically opening iron door.
Without any guard up, Gu Heng entered. Inside stretched a long corridor, and then—
A mechanism released a large amount of faintly toxic gas that could cause unconsciousness.
Soon, the entire passage was filled with the strange vapor. Anyone who entered would definitely pass out, and the door behind had already sealed shut.
But for Gu Heng, such a mild toxin would be quickly metabolized out of his body—it couldn’t affect him at all.
Soon, however, more traps appeared to greet him.
A flicker of amusement rose in Gu Heng’s eyes. It had turned into a trap-filled maze game.
The one behind these mechanisms was no ordinary person. Seemingly simple devices had been arranged with deadly precision—peril at every turn, and one careless step would mean falling straight into a pre-set snare.
For anyone else, this would have been a death game. But for Gu Heng, it only took some effort to break through all the traps, and by the time he reached the final coded door, he even felt a hint of regret that it was already over.
Outside, Ji Shenwen—who had been waiting anxiously—saw that the Federation police had arrived, but there was still no sign of His Highness. Panicked, he called. “Your Highness, where are you? We can’t find you anywhere!”
Gu Heng glanced casually at the camera beside the door, smiled meaningfully, and said, “I ran into something interesting, so I stayed a little longer. I’ll head back soon.”
Then he hung up.
Retrieving a black USB drive, Gu Heng watched as the password-locked door slowly opened.
The enclosed room lit up automatically.
Empty.
The sight before him made Gu Heng’s eyes darken. He quickly moved to the center of the room, inserting the black USB drive into a machine’s interface.
Lines of data flickered across the screen as Gu Heng intercepted the signal source of the person behind it all.
He finally found it.
But when he saw the address on the screen, his expression froze into deep silence.
—The address was on the Federation’s main star.
—The very place he most wanted to avoid, yet could never escape.
