Chapter 13: What Troublesome Pair Did Basero Dump on Me…

One came to a halt, its expression remaining calm as ever.

Xie Jianxun immediately sensed something was off.

He grabbed the Mechanical Puppet’s clothes and frowned. “One, you head back to the inn first. I’ll be there soon.”

However, the Mechanical Puppet smiled at him and gently waved its hand, pushing him to the edge of the street.

“Wait here, sir. This won’t take long,” the Mechanical Puppet said softly.

With that, it drew a long knife dripping with energy fluid from its waist, as if pulling a bloodied rib from inside its own body.

With a light swing, blazing flames erupted along the blade.

The roaring, fervent flames twisted upward, scorching the air until it burned fiercely hot.

One held a gun, the other a knife.

Their stances were strikingly similar, yet no one noticed.

Over there, the young man flicked the trigger pinched between his fingertips. Peering over the Mechanical Puppet’s shoulder, he saw Xie Jianxun’s panicked face.

The young young master was at a loss, trying to grab One’s sleeve but forced back by the flames.

He wanted to look at him, but the tall back blocked his view.

The young man imperceptibly licked the back of his molars, pondering how to snatch the person away from this pile of mechanical scrap.

That one was his pre-reserved prize, after all.

“Sizzle…”

A barrage of laser rounds clashed with the long knife, blasting continuous plumes of smoke across the smooth street. Exhibition stands and awnings from roadside shops were flung into the air, glass shards mixed with sparks exploding like fireworks.

The pavement tiles trembled and cracked under the terrifying impacts, bursting like mini-bombs. Shards of stone rolled everywhere, mingled with the piercing screech of the long knife grinding against gravel.

Huo Jing held his forearm-length laser weapon in one hand, his boots crunching over the debris as he strolled leisurely.

The Mechanical Puppet, meanwhile, moved with limbs extended gracefully, dancing amid the flames, a smile even playing on its lips.

Xie Jianxun stood at the street’s edge, utterly dumbfounded.

“This…”

He sucked in a sharp breath. His first instinct was to pull out his Light Brain and see if he could call the police for mediation.

But then he remembered he had no local account and couldn’t access the local net at all.

Ah!!!

He might as well snatch the thing from Huo Jing’s hand and give them one gun each to settle it!

Explosions rang nonstop in his ears. Xie Jianxun covered them and scanned his surroundings. He spotted a long awning pole still stuck in place, though the canopy had long been blasted away. He yanked it from the ground with all his might and first charged at Huo Jing to block him.

“No fighting! Stop it right now!”

He raised his eyebrows and yelled fiercely, “Sirs, don’t you feel ashamed?! Fighting in the middle of the street like this!!!”

Huo Jing agilely leaped back and glanced at him, but Xie Jianxun ignored it and turned to jab at One.

The Mechanical Puppet obediently halted, grabbing the top of the pole with one hand.

It furrowed its brows and smiled awkwardly. “You really should have gone back first, sir.”

Xie Jianxun was stumped. “You two are fighting like this, and you expect me to just stroll back like nothing happened? Can’t you talk it out like civilized people!”

Huo Jing drawled lazily, “No, what it means is, if you don’t leave, you’ll get arrested with us.”

Xie Jianxun: “Wha—”

Sure enough, the City Lord’s Mansion Patrol Troops arrived, rounding up all three of them. They were hauled off one by one to the prison under the City Lord’s Mansion and locked in separate cells.

It was Xie Jianxun’s first time in prison—and under these circumstances, no less.

Since he hadn’t done any harm and carried no weapons, the Patrol Troops merely confined him to a holding cell. After a short wait, someone came for a statement and gave him a stern talking-to.

The pretty young man with the flower-like head couldn’t even lift it, slumping on the bench as he got scolded.

Once the scolding ended, he still couldn’t leave; someone had to come pick him up.

Fortunately, the holding cell staffer was a kind young lady. Seeing he was hungry, she gave him some bread and water, then waited with him for boss Alex to arrive.

“Those two handsome guys fought so fiercely—they’re probably looking at jail time,” the young lady said from behind her office swivel chair, scribbling away without looking up. “Or pay a fine and repair the street damage… Either way, they’re not getting out for at least a year or so.”

Xie Jianxun looked glum. “They said some stuff I didn’t understand before the fight broke out, and then it just happened.” What could he do? He was just as desperate.

With that, he bowed his head and chomped on the bread, nearly choking himself.

The young lady’s head snapped up, and she raised a brow at him.

“Stuff you didn’t understand?” She twirled her pen, grinning. “Which of those two is your boyfriend?”

Xie Jianxun replied dryly, “Obviously neither… No, I mean, I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Looks like someone’s trying to make a move, then. Ah, person’s here.”

As she spoke, Xie Jianxun turned and saw a familiar face reflected in the fine-mesh window glass.

The teenage boss stood outside the holding cell, staring at him expressionlessly through the window.

Xie Jianxun: “…”

He hadn’t done anything wrong, but he still felt guilty.

Alex led him out, nagging the whole way: “Look at the troublesome bundle Basero dumped on me. How does someone come to a strange planet and start a brawl not long after, making it a huge spectacle?”

Xie Jianxun apologized, “Sorry.”

Alex sighed, his young face carrying a hint of world-weariness. “It cost some money to bail you out. I’ll deduct it from your wages. Remember—no more trouble next time.”

Xie Jianxun wisely changed the subject. “What about One… and Huo Jing?”

Alex: “Still locked up.”

Unlike Xie Jianxun’s walk-through detention, these two had gone all out with real firepower and were classified as genuine threats, confined deep in the prison.

The Patrol Troops had confiscated their weapons and separated them into cells on opposite sides. They’d await trial after the court sorted the details.

Compiling the case files and the trial would take about a week—that was what Xie Jianxun had learned.

Yet the very next afternoon, One was released.

The Mechanical Puppet walked into the station lobby and smiled at Xie Jianxun and Alex, who sat waiting on the metal bench row.

It looked fine—pale face, thick black curls draped along its cheek, clothes clean and neat.

Xie Jianxun’s eyes lit up. “One!”

Alex muttered, “How’d it get out so fast… Is my memory off? No way the City Lord’s Mansion idiots work that efficiently…”

One smiled and explained, “They reviewed the surveillance. The other guy struck first with a high-powered weapon, so mine was ruled legitimate self-defense. I just had to pay a fine.”

Xie Jianxun breathed a sigh of relief.

As long as everyone was safe, fines could be paid off gradually with work.

He added casually, “What about Huo Jing? Is he out?”

The Mechanical Puppet showed a strange expression and described slowly, “He’s the instigator, so he’s still inside.”

“We’ll see him after the trial in a week,” Alex said. “Let’s head back first. You’ve had a long day—get some rest.”

The Mechanical Puppet chimed in smoothly, “Thank you for the trouble.”

Xie Jianxun sighed, feeling he’d been arrested for nothing, scolded for nothing, and left totally in the dark.

“No more fighting next time,” he whined petulantly. “It’s expensive… and exhausting.”

One lowered its head and saw the young human’s unhappy little expression, gazing into those dazzling golden eyes, sweet as honey—a pure, naive little white lamb.

It seemed rather forgetful, having wiped their earlier conversation clean from memory.

It smiled faintly, as if tamed. “As you wish.”

Deep in the prison, the new occupant’s cell was quiet.

Huo Jing lay on his back on the metal bunk—no mattress or blanket, hard as hell. A normal person would’ve winced in discomfort.

He didn’t mind; he even enjoyed it, like reminiscing about old times.

The young man tucked his arm under his head and stared quietly at the room’s sole window overhead until the sunlight faded and night fell.

The neighboring cell stirred—maybe dinner was late. The other inmates were getting antsy from hunger.

Huo Jing chuckled, rising leisurely from the bed and walking to the door.

His weapon was gone, but no matter.

Half a minute later, the door lock burst with a muffled pop. The prison gate swung open, and Huo Jing sauntered out.

The noisy neighboring cell fell instantly silent.

He ignored it and headed down the corridor.

At the far end, someone pushed open a door with a meal cart, panting as he kicked it shut to deliver food to the detainees.

He looked up and saw Huo Jing standing there casually, with the blasted-open cell door wide behind him.

“Holy sh—”

Before the shout escaped, the young man appeared like a ghost before him, smiling.

“Do you know where the City Lord is?”

Huo Jing said lazily. “I’ve got some business that needs his help.”

City Lord’s Mansion.

The City Lord sat behind the rosewood desk in his study, scribbling furiously—or trying to—as he handled city affairs diligently.

But his pen trembled, eyes drifting; clearly distracted.

He was a middle-aged man past his prime, pampered and soft-handed, no calluses from labor. Around forty-something, his hair and beard gleamed with fine oil.

The study door was shut tight. Someone knocked.

He assumed it was the butler—he’d just ordered tea.

“Come in,” he said offhandedly.

The door opened, and a cart laden with food and drinks wheeled in.

The City Lord paid no mind, stacking his papers and barking orders. “Deliver these to…”

The next second, he realized something was wrong.

He jerked his head up. No butler’s wrinkled face—instead, a strange young man!

The wide wooden chair scraped across the floor, snagging the carpet edge.

He stood alertly, backing up a step, and bellowed, “Who are you? How’d you get in? Guards! Guards!!!”

The young man plucked a pastry from the cart and chewed it slowly.

“If I can stand here in plain sight, City Lord, you think you can call the guards?” he mocked.

The City Lord eyed him—familiar somehow.

He didn’t dare act rashly. After a moment’s thought, he recalled a recently signed document.

Realization dawned; he frowned. “You’re the prisoner nabbed yesterday. What, you here to take me hostage?”

Huo Jing: “Yeah, spot on.”

He circled the cart to the broad desk. “And?”

“…Normal escapees flee the Patrol Troops’ sight fast to avoid recapture.”

The City Lord reined in his racing thoughts and analyzed quickly. “But you came back, so you need something from the City Lord’s Mansion—something from me, worth the risk.”

He said gravely, “Leave now! When the guards arrive, I’ll consider your request.”

But the young man opposite looked bored, unmoved.

He drew the laser weapon from his waist—the one he’d just taken back from the prison staff—and with terrifying force, kicked over the solid desk, pressing it to the City Lord’s head.

“Don’t move. I never set the safety.”

He said coldly.

Sweat beaded on the City Lord’s forehead as the barrel pressed against him. “How do you still have…”

“Open network comms. Let me connect to the Star Net.”

Huo Jing stressed.

“Once I contact my fleet, I’ll leave—no interference with your rule.”

The document’s words flashed before the middle-aged City Lord’s eyes—every line, column, the bored photo on the cover, lingering on the name he’d overlooked.

“—Huo Jing?”

He shrieked, “You’re the Great Star Pirate Huo Jing!!!”