The aurora was truly beautiful.
For the competitors whose daily lives were consumed by training, this was the first time they had witnessed such a magnificent sight with their own eyes. Some walked to a better vantage point to take photos, while Su Cha was still busy casually altering the competition rules.
Ji Tianjin handed over pen and paper. Su Cha raised an eyebrow. “You really do carry everything with you.”
After jotting down a few rough notes, Su Cha bit the tip of his pen. “This competition only awards the top ten, but there are at least twenty teams here. How about we add a few more consolation prizes?”
Ji Tianjin replied pragmatically, “The Federation probably won’t be that generous.”
Su Cha waved his hand dismissively. “That doesn’t matter. Let’s set ten spots for now. Once the champion is locked in, I’ll sponsor the prizes myself.”
Ji Tianjin nodded.
Using Federation-issued awards to reward the winners you selected—this arrangement was perfectly reasonable.
When the other competitors overheard this, their first reaction was that Su Cha was very generous, willing to share his prizes so no one would be disappointed. But then their expressions turned strange, because when they thought about it carefully, it sounded like Su Cha already considered the championship his.
Unbothered by outside opinions, Su Cha continued drafting his ideas, occasionally adding more to the list. When he lowered his head again, his pen suddenly paused.
Ji Tianjin asked, “What’s wrong?”
Su Cha straightened up. “I just feel something’s off.” It was hard to describe. He thought for a moment and said, “The nature around us also feels unreal, like a sponge being squeezed.”
He had felt this way before, and instead of fading with time, the sensation was only getting stronger.
A competitor who had just finished photographing the aurora turned back and joked, “Don’t tell me you’ve reached the realm of becoming one with nature?”
“…” You’re really funny.
Su Cha often said shocking things, so most people didn’t take his comment seriously. Lien, passing by, even teased, “We have warships escorting us. Even a mosquito wouldn’t be able to sneak in.”
All unusual sensations could be categorized as security issues, and right now, the Dawn-Dusk Star was undoubtedly the safest place in the universe.
But Ji Tianjin didn’t take it lightly—he pulled Su Cha closer and carefully scanned the surroundings with his spiritual power.
At that exact moment inside the arena, when Su Cha furrowed his brows, Cyril immediately sent a message to Land: “Test spatial stability.”
In fact, Land had already tested it a few hours ago and confirmed everything was normal.
“Test it again,” Cyril ordered coldly. “Expand the monitoring range to include the interstellar battlefield.”
The Federation president, who had just re-entered the arena, noticed this but kept his expression unchanged, though his eyes turned colder. He quietly instructed his secretary to speed up the process. The competition was nearing its end, and there was only one final step left: forcefully pushing the asteroid off its orbit.
“Do it cleanly. Leave no trace,” he whispered into his communicator.
In the audience, Cyril had already stood up, seemingly preparing to go over personally.
The Federation president frowned. People from Fog Star never followed the rules.
Just as Cyril was about to leave, the ground suddenly trembled.
The intensity of the tremor was enough to collapse the entire arena, but since many powerful figures were present, they immediately released their spiritual power to stabilize the shaking steel and concrete. The cracks in the ground were also forcibly suppressed, preventing them from spreading into deep chasms, though the fissures still extended vertically thousands of meters underground.
The violent tremors weren’t limited to Jibei Star; nearby planets were also affected, including Dawn-Dusk Star.
Many animals on desolate stars were instantly killed by the deafening roar. The aurora above the rainforest merged into a blinding white light.
Su Cha struggled to keep his balance.
Honestly, ever since Rong Shao had gone out of his way to emphasize how safe this event would be, and again when Lien had just confidently repeated it, he’d had a bad feeling. The idea that extremes always reverse applies to most things in life. Plus, maybe it was just him—whenever he entered a competition, things never went smoothly.
The magnetic field above was in disarray, and turbulent air currents surged from nowhere. Lien had to land on the ground. “Don’t worry. With so many powerful people here, even if an asteroid hits us, we can evacuate in time.”
Su Cha was blunt: “I’m not reassured at all.”
The warships were exceptionally stable and should not have been affected by these tremors. With all this commotion, they should have rushed over by now. Looking around again, the nearby flowers, grass, and trees seemed distorted, as if viewed through a funhouse mirror.
Ji Tianjin tugged Su Cha’s wrist again. “Stand closer.”
The two of them were practically pressed together. The overly intimate posture made him a little uncomfortable, but knowing Ji Tianjin wouldn’t do this for no reason, Su Cha didn’t pull away.
“Space dimensions are overlapping! F*ck—%#…” Lien finally realized what was happening as he approached them, cursing loudly. It was obvious he lived a pretty restrained life; when given the chance to swear, he didn’t hold back.
Lien added, “Don’t worry. In less than a minute, they’ll pull us out.”
“Stop talking,” Su Cha said, his head aching.
His theoretical knowledge was lacking—he still didn’t fully understand what was happening, but he could roughly judge that they were now in a separate spatial dimension.
There wasn’t much to worry about. With the warships here, they might not even need to wait a full minute to get out.
But Lien’s mouth… no offense, it really seemed cursed.
Su Cha subconsciously exchanged glances with Ji Tianjin, realizing he wasn’t the only one thinking this.
Just as they locked eyes, figures emerged from the white light. The glare was so intense that before anyone could clearly see their outlines, the strangers had already approached.
Dozens of black gun barrels were aimed straight at the competitors.
Su Cha squinted, observing the people who had suddenly appeared. They were dressed in all black, including head coverings. From their outfits, they looked very much like terrorists.
Very strong ones.
After his spirit power surged, he could somewhat sense the strength of his opponents.
“Shiyuan Clan.” As the light dimmed, Su Cha finally saw some key features clearly.
He had read about them beforehand—the Shiyuan Clan would tattoo a snake around their eyes.
At that moment, one of them was timing with a stopwatch. Su Cha looked around—the tornado-like energy clusters gathered in every corner, sealing all the contestants as if trapped in boxes, unable to break through the invisible barriers for the time being.
“If you don’t want the space to collapse and be crushed into powder, don’t move.” The man speaking made a gesture, signaling his men to start capturing people.
The Shiyuan Clan could slice space into cubes and use that to escape.
Recalling what he’d read, Su Cha quickly assessed the situation: the other side had numbers, weapons, and the contestants had just gone through two grueling days of battles and were exhausted. No matter how skilled they were, they were still under twenty years old. Even if they joined forces, there was little hope of escape.
Su Cha, now taken hostage, obediently followed orders. The Shiyuan Clan was known to resort to suicide attacks when necessary and feared no death. Su Cha still wanted to slack his way to five hundred years old.
What puzzled him was why accidents always happened at every competition. In the past, at least he could analyze clues and quickly pinpoint suspects—but this time, he had no leads at all.
Who was it?
Who wanted him dead?
Ji Tianjin seemed to know what he was thinking and whispered, “The Shiyuan Clan likes to provoke the Empire. This probably has nothing to do with you.”
Su Cha could only comfort himself that way.
With guns pressed to their heads, several Shiyuan members forcibly placed electronic shackles on the contestants. These special shackles were nearly impossible to break, even with spirit power.
When Su Cha was pushed onto the spaceship, his steps faltered slightly as he was still deep in thought. A rough shove forced him forward.
“Move faster.”
Ji Tianjin was right behind him and quickly steadied him. His cold gaze swept over the hand that had pushed Su Cha, silently memorizing the person’s appearance.
The other contestants were quiet as chickens, only exchanging quick glances.
—Did you see that? He pushed Su Cha.
—Yeah, with his left hand.
The heavens bore witness, and the drone livestream would back them up. The people of Fog Star, known for obsessively pampering their youths, had surely seen this—
There are people who are still alive…
But they’re already dead.
Let’s see if Fog Star doesn’t chop that hand off.
The unlucky ones weren’t just Su Cha’s group. A few other contestants had also been caught in bad timing. After their teammates were eliminated, they were allowed to return to retrieve their spirit forms, but they just happened to get captured by the Shiyuan Clan.
Rather than fear, many of the captured contestants were weighing whether to fight for their lives or wait for a rescue. If they chose to fight, this would be their last chance.
There’s always someone hot-headed who acts without thinking. Among the last batch of students captured, one of them was just that type. As the last to be pushed onto the spaceship, he summoned his spirit form without hesitation: “Go—”
The Shiyuan men were already prepared to pull the trigger. No matter how powerful his spirit strength was, he couldn’t stop dozens of bullets at once.
At the critical moment, the student caught sight of Su Cha. He froze, then forcibly swallowed the words “go kill them” and instead choked out, “Go say hi.”
The spirit form, ready for a bloody battle, obediently raised a paw in greeting, clearly confused.
The student then cooperatively allowed the electronic shackles to be fastened. Even when his mechanical gloves were removed, he didn’t resist. Well—people die sooner or later, but he was sure the Shiyuan Clan would die more miserably than he would.
Just when this should have been the moment for the captors to flex their power, the leader of the Shiyuan Clan suddenly strode over and gave one of his own men a resounding slap.
The man was stunned, not knowing what just happened.
“Are you crazy?”
The leader’s eyes were locked on Lien in the distance. Lien hadn’t yet folded his wings. Among the cosmic races, only the Zergs had wings. Zerg members were naturally tall, except for the rare King Insects, who were small.
The Shiyuan Clan might be reckless, but they weren’t stupid. They dared to provoke the Empire, believing the Empire wouldn’t go all-out against them. But the Zergs? They would absolutely fight to the death for a King Insect.
The spaceship had already taken off. The leader paced anxiously, then suddenly gestured to his trusted aide, who quickly understood, personally unfastening Lien’s shackles and even bringing him a small cake.
“Have something sweet to calm your nerves.”
Su Cha raised his eyebrows at this and instantly understood—this was a privilege granted because of status.
If Lien got a cake, surely Su Cha deserved a three-tier cake with a champagne tower, right? Hopefully, these Shiyuan guys would understand basic fairness.
“I’ll share half with you later,” he said to Ji Tianjin.
But he didn’t even get a glance, let alone a cake.
After delivering the cake, the leader of the Shiyuan Clan scanned the group of contestants and ordered coldly, “Go verify their identities.”
Other than the Zergs, there were certain factions they didn’t want to offend—like Jialu Star, a planet notorious for switching sides and doing business with anyone.
The people from Jialu Star had naturally greenish skin, easy to identify. They even got a cup of coffee to stay alert.
Sometimes, imagination and reality differ. The Shiyuan Clan had been hiding in the interstellar battlefield for years and only recently sneaked near Fog Star, seizing the chaos caused by the meteor impact to break in. They didn’t know Fog Star’s culture of obsessively doting on their children.
“Where are you from? Answer me!”
There was no special treatment as expected, only growing impatience.
To prevent lying, the interrogating Shiyuan members used lie detectors and kept their spirit power blanketing the area.
It was Su Cha’s turn.
Since the other side didn’t know the details, Su Cha didn’t rush to reveal anything. Under repeated urging, he slowly spoke: “Fog Star. Parents unknown. I was kidnapped by human traffickers as a child and only found much later.”
The usual tactic: hide the truth within the truth. To be safe, he only mentioned Fog Star.
Fog Star?
The Shiyuan men didn’t think much of it. Fog Star had gained some fame in recent decades for conquering a planet ruled by a King-class strange beast, but the Shiyuan Clan had been stationed on backward planets where Fog Star’s feats hadn’t been recorded in the local star networks. They had heard bits and pieces, thinking of Fog Star as just another powerful but profit-driven faction like the Federation—not something to overly worry about.
After the interrogation, the Shiyuan Clan’s assessment of Su Cha was: a beautiful orphan of the universe.
