Almost as soon as he returned to space, Su Cha immediately transferred to a spaceship.
The ship Ji Tianjin had given him back when he left Galan Star finally came in handy. Otherwise, relying on just the small craft to escape the beasts would have been nothing but a fool’s dream.
The beasts were still in relentless pursuit—some of them even clung to the windows like infected monsters from a zombie movie.
“They can sense my presence.”
Su Cha frowned. Though the description was a bit insulting to himself, the way the beasts were acting now was like flies smelling rotting flesh.
Ji Tianjin was piloting, doing his best to keep the ship flying side by side with the Shiyuan clan’s ship ahead.
On the other ship, the Shiyuan clan members were already cursing Su Cha’s ancestors. He was clinging to them like stubborn glue that couldn’t be scraped off.
“Get lost!” the pilot shouted from his soul.
More messages kept coming from their base. Their leader had even issued the order: ensure the Fog Star hostage is returned safely, as much as possible.
“There’s no way he’ll be safe,” the head of the group said grimly, laying out the current situation.
The royal-class beasts were multiplying like a snowball, growing larger and larger in number as they went. Whether the ship could hold out was one thing, but if they slowed down even a little, they were dead anyway.
The base fell silent for a moment. They hadn’t expected the situation to become this dire.
Throwing Su Cha out to divert the beasts would probably bring the wrath of Fog Star later, but when choosing between dying now and dying later, most people would choose the latter, just to buy a little more time.
The leader sneered, “I don’t believe Fog Star would really chase us to the ends of the universe.”
No empire would willingly waste that much money and resources, and besides, they really had let the hostage go. If he died in the beast siege, well, that would just be bad luck.
Right now, the cosmos was filled with turbulent spatial whirlpools. The Shiyuan clan could at least control their ship to barely enter and exit another dimensional space. Su Cha and Ji Tianjin, on the other hand, could do nothing but go faster.
The flying speed of the royal-class beasts was astonishing. Even with the ship at maximum speed, they still couldn’t completely shake them off.
The beasts had limited stamina, so they were continuously letting out low growls, trying to summon more of their kind through their unique inter-species connection.
Su Cha sat in the co-pilot seat, helping to read the star maps.
Not every planet was included in the navigation system—many didn’t even have names. Most of the wastelands had beast nests, but the nearest life-sustaining planet was Dìcheng Star.
Ji Tianjin shook his head immediately.
If they approached another country’s territory, no matter the reason, they’d probably be shot down before they even had the chance to explain.
Su Cha pointed to a few coordinates: “Find a waste star to hide for a bit?”
Waste stars had fewer beasts, but the climate was extremely harsh, and Spiritual energy would burn out quickly.
Ji Tianjin nodded: “That’s doable.”
The situation was grim. Beasts from a planet up ahead circled around to intercept them, almost like suicide bombers, and bang—one slammed head-on into their ship, causing the entire front window to violently tremble.
“Royal-class beasts can command lower-class ones.” Ji Tianjin frowned slightly. “Landing successfully won’t be easy.”
Suddenly, a broadcast came from the Shiyuan clan’s ship nearby: “Child from Fog Star, do you have no regard for the safety of the other contestants? And the person who left with you—do you plan to let him die to the beasts too?”
“If you have even a shred of conscience, then go as far away as you can.”
“The universe is vast. Please fly elsewhere.”
Su Cha paused, then turned his head: “Are the Shiyuan clan… trying to…”
Ji Tianjin nodded: “They’re morally blackmailing you.”
Su Cha was about to curse them out but suddenly remembered he often used this trick himself.
Ji Tianjin sincerely tried to defend him: “You’re different. You only ever hurt yourself. You never harm others.”
For example, those forgiveness letters Su Cha wrote—he only gave up his own right to justice.
The way he said it… even Su Cha, as the person involved, felt a little embarrassed.
Su Cha took a sip of water: “Thank you.”
It wasn’t thank you for understanding me, but rather thank you for whitewashing me.
Double standards are a part of his personality. Ji Tianjin, who had just gently comforted Su Cha, was merciless when dealing with outsiders—he continued deliberately staying close to the Shiyuan clan’s ship, using their firepower to help fend off the beasts.
As for the other contestants, Ji Tianjin obviously couldn’t save everyone. As hostages, when they arrived at the base, they’d either be brainwashed with specialized equipment or publicly executed via livestream. In the chaos, at least they’d have a sliver of a chance to survive.
The Shiyuan clan was on the verge of being completely enraged and even piloted their ship to deliberately ram into them.
At this rate, they were bound to fight first.
Su Cha pondered if there was another way out. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Ji Tianjin squint slightly, with a hint of suspicion mixed in. Su Cha instinctively made a sound: “Hmm?” and asked what was wrong.
“There’s a black hole up ahead. We could try to charge into it and gamble.”
A black hole? That was great news. Su Cha didn’t understand why Ji Tianjin was hesitating.
Ji Tianjin explained, “Something’s been wrong ever since the beasts started chasing us. It’s like they’ve been deliberately herded. And these air current vortices caused by the impacts… they’re too evenly distributed.”
Many planets were densely surrounded by whirlpools, making it impossible for their ship to approach, let alone turn back. It was as if an invisible hand had paved a path for them, a path that could only lead into darkness.
Ji Tianjin went on to point out several other suspicious details and finally said, though still a bit uncertain, “If this really is a setup, it doesn’t seem like something a person could arrange.”
Doesn’t seem like something a person could arrange?
Speaking of this, Su Cha immediately perked up and sat straight.
“If humans can’t do it, that’s exactly it. Let’s go—don’t worry, just go forward.”
He should have thought of it earlier. The system must have been secretly stirring things up. When the Shiyuan clan first appeared, Su Cha had tried calling the system in his mind, but it never showed up. He had felt something was wrong the whole time.
Trusting him, Ji Tianjin maneuvered the spaceship into a sharp arc, dodging the diving beasts and heading straight for the wormhole’s coordinates.
On the other side, seeing they were deliberately heading into the black hole, the Shiyuan clan didn’t follow. The beasts had no deep grudge against them; as long as they got rid of Su Cha, they would be safe.
The royal beast behind them suddenly went berserk, roaring with its bloody mouth wide open, trying to tear off the spaceship’s tail.
At the last second, the spaceship entered the wormhole just ahead of the beast. The royal beast followed closely but noticeably slowed down once inside the wormhole.
Ji Tianjin glanced at the locator. “This wormhole leads to the interstellar battlefield.”
They were rapidly approaching it.
Jibei Star was near the interstellar battlefield, which was good news. But considering the system was probably involved, Su Cha couldn’t fully relax.
Just as they were about to pass through the wormhole, the display screen suddenly flickered with static.
Ji Tianjin: “Magnetic field disruption. The spatial node at the exit is broken.”
Su Cha, half-illiterate in such things, asked, “What does that mean?”
Ji Tianjin sighed. “We can’t pinpoint the exit. We don’t know which spatial dimension we’ll come out into.”
Normally, that wasn’t a huge problem—as long as they weren’t unlucky enough to drop into the center of the battlefield, their chances of survival were decent.
The spaceship’s shaking escalated until it was spinning almost out of control, and even the safety belts couldn’t keep them fully secured in their seats.
Su Cha was dizzy and confused, grabbing Ji Tianjin’s hand amidst the chaos. “I think I’m getting vertigo—I see nothing but darkness now.”
“It’s not you.” Ji Tianjin checked the spaceship’s remaining fuel. “We’ve entered another wormhole.”
“…”
Outer edge of the interstellar battlefield.
Surrounding a newly formed wormhole, troops from various planets were stationed.
During the ceasefire of the competition, this place had become a rare moment of calm.
The ground was pockmarked, the aftermath of previous meteor strikes. Li Huai was leading soldiers on a routine patrol. After Yise returned to his post in the empire, Li Huai had to temporarily come back to handle some affairs.
Suddenly, an oncoming air current made him stop in his tracks.
His deputy instinctively looked skyward—another meteor?
His neck almost cramped from craning, but instead of a meteor, he saw terrifying energy fluctuations approaching from behind.
Near the wormhole, a small, twisted black dot had inexplicably appeared, and before anyone could react, it fell straight into the wormhole.
“What was that?” Nearby personnel gathered to investigate.
“It looked like a spaceship.”
As they discussed, Li Huai’s expression changed—it wasn’t just any spaceship, it was from their own Galan Empire. Only imperial warships used black and white color schemes on their tail fins.
“Recover the monitoring data,” he immediately ordered.
Monitoring devices constantly recorded and analyzed data around the wormhole, and that scene had definitely been captured.
After repairing and checking the footage, the professionals quickly confirmed the spaceship model and matched it with the national database.
It was an extremely expensive, limited-edition ship. Only a handful of people in the empire owned one. After quickly eliminating other possibilities, they confirmed it belonged to Ji Chong, who had bought it years ago.
Upon contacting Ji Chong, they learned that Ji Tianjin had used his card to buy the ship for Su Cha.
At this point, they had essentially confirmed who the unfortunate person that fell into the wormhole was.
Li Huai reported the result to Cyril.
Around the same time, the Shiyuan clan publicly released a video clarifying that they had already let Su Cha go.
Cyril listened to the news from Sanses while also hearing the Shiyuan clan’s relentless public statement in the video: “Just now, we released two more hostages and even provided them with cake to celebrate…”
The leaders from other planets subtly distanced themselves from Cyril—not because they lacked sympathy, but because the replayed footage of the spaceship falling into the wormhole, combined with the Shiyuan clan’s oblivious boasting, created an oddly comical and cursed scene.
Among those present, the Federation President was the only one who nearly laughed out loud.
He appeared to be offering serious advice, but in reality, his internal calculations were already clattering with satisfaction.
Silently resolving so many troublesome matters while watching the others panic like ants on a hot pan—it was truly delightful.
A moment later, the Federation President excused himself.
He walked onto his warship, poured a glass of wine, and leisurely swirled it while his body swayed gently to the music.
“Fog Star, Galan Empire, Pritt…”
So what if their military power was strong? Weren’t they still played into the palm of his hand?
The curve of his smile deepened. It should have been a moment of pure relaxation, but suddenly his expression changed sharply: “Who’s there?”
He released his spiritual power to probe, but found nothing—as if it had been a mere illusion.
…
“Not bad.”
The system, which had narrowly avoided being detected, decisively left the Federation warship’s area, preparing to locate its host and carry out the next phase of its plan. At the same time, it calmly dipped a brush in ink and began writing anonymous reports.
Dear His Majesty Cyril,
Greetings. I am here to report that the meteor’s derailment was no accident—it was entirely orchestrated by the Federation President. The details of his crimes are as follows, with photographic evidence attached.
…
The system wrote several letters in succession, then opened a birdcage.
When it once said it enjoyed gardening and bird-walking, it wasn’t joking with Su Cha—except these were mechanical birds it had made itself. After years of preparation, these birds were finally about to fulfill their mission as couriers.
Jibei Star’s current defenses were tight, and even though the mechanical birds were well-concealed, they would eventually be discovered. But the system had already accounted for this.
Most of the birds flew near the Fog Star soldiers. Their glowing red eyes flashed repeatedly as they loudly broadcasted: “We are Su Cha’s birds. We are Su Cha’s birds…”
Their cries were so loud they attracted plenty of attention.
As expected, the Fog Star soldiers didn’t destroy them immediately from a distance. After confirming with detectors that there were no explosives, a senior officer personally retrieved a few of them.
Before even seeing the letters, several photos fell out—the top one especially striking.
In the photo, the Federation President was seen swaying his hips and spinning his wine glass. Judging by the digital clock in the background, this scene had taken place just moments earlier.
