Chapter 61: The Most Fitting Inscription on My Tombstone…

The belated Energy Cannon shot descended, striking the King Insect’s head with precision.

It was like a gigantic hammer falling from the sky. The defensive fissure that the long knife had cleaved open expanded inch by inch under the Energy Cannon’s bombardment.

Accompanied by the violent sound of bones fracturing, the King Insect slowly tilted backward and collapsed onto the yellow sand, enveloped in a haze of blinding dust and smoke.

Immediately after, thousands of small tracking projectiles scattered like fireworks, splitting apart and pursuing the insect swarms into every corner of the city, shattering their formations.

The crowd panicked and dodged, only to discover that the tracking projectiles did not harm humans but precisely targeted the insects.

In front of the King Insect, however, there was a strangely empty patch of ground.

It was the closest spot to the King Insect, and everyone feared lingering aftershocks from the Energy Cannon or that the beast might not be fully dead and could lash out again.

No one dared approach it, only stealing distant glances.

But Xie Jianxun was not afraid.

Once no one stopped him and the city defense forces moved to clean up the battlefield, he paused in place for a moment before slowly walking over.

He climbed over the ruins of the city wall, stepping on broken bricks to reach the top, and from there, he saw the Mechanical Puppet’s body shattered into pieces.

He still felt a sense of unreality, as if he had watched a movie where the protagonist was someone closest to him.

The young human walked to its side, crouched down, and gathered up One’s remains.

He first collected the larger pieces and stored them in his Light Brain, then meticulously picked up the smaller fragments one by one.

Its golden pupils had already solidified, its small face pale as paper. It kept its mouth closed without speaking, only mechanically opening and closing the Light Brain with its hands.

The parts were shattered too badly; they had rolled across the sand and picked up dust.

He lowered his head to blow them clean before carefully putting them away.

The King Insect’s pincer strike had crossed from its waist to its chest, snapping the Mechanical Puppet clean in two. Many vital components were completely scrapped.

As Xie Jianxun gathered the pieces, his heart stirred—he realized that One’s Mechanical Core had not been too badly damaged.

That was the chip at the chest position, right above the energy box, which supplied power to the Mechanical Puppet’s entire body and stored its memories.

Which meant, if it could be repaired…

The butler’s figure appeared behind him, his eyes downcast.

When he neither spoke nor smiled, he was frighteningly cold.

Xie Jianxun said softly, “Julius, can you save it?”

Julius replied slowly, “Of course I can, my little master. As long as you obediently come back, I can do anything. I could even add a line to its chip—’will never betray you.’ How about that?”

His words were veiled, as if entirely for Xie Jianxun’s benefit, but Xie Jianxun understood perfectly.

The butler was saying: Whatever kind you like, I can customize it for you. I control all your preferences.

But that wouldn’t be One.

Without turning his head, Xie Jianxun said, “Thank you. But I need some time to think it over, and I have to say goodbye to my friends first. They wouldn’t like it if I left without a word.”

Julius nodded, the corner of his lips curving slightly. His eyes were calm and still as he leaned forward slightly to bow to him—a flawless gesture without a single flaw.

“If that’s what you wish.”

His figure vanished completely, and only then did Xie Jianxun let out a heavy sigh of relief.

He looked up, and that fragile sorrow that seemed like it could be blown away by the wind… had utterly disappeared!

He quickly packed everything up and patted the dust off his pants as he stood.

Xie Jianxun already had a plan in mind. He certainly wouldn’t sit idly by like some delicate princess, waiting in place to be whisked back to the warm, safe little garden by the butler.

The most important thing now was to first stabilize Julius.

Delin came rushing from behind, and upon seeing him unharmed, nearly burst into tears.

“Boss—Boss—” he chanted like he was calling a soul back.

Xie Jianxun snapped out of it and said helplessly, “I’m perfectly fine, not missing any arms or legs.”

Then the young man pulled him into a hug, rubbing him vigorously.

“You look all dusty,” Delin grumbled. “Come on, rub it all off on big bro’s clothes. Big bro doesn’t mind.”

The doors of the Slieberlich Hotel stood wide open. The young inn boss was not behind the counter as usual.

Instead, he rushed straight out, leaning on the doorframe to gaze into the distance.

When he spotted their figures, Alex’s eyes lit up, but he quickly turned away, pretending to be angry.

As soon as he opened his mouth: “Well, isn’t this rare? Two heroes charging to the front lines to kill bugs. Bet that felt great, right?”

Xie Jianxun calmly replied, “I was just logistics.”

Basero raised an eyebrow and grinned. “Asa, I’m assuming you’re worried about us.”

Caught off guard, Alex panicked and retreated repeatedly, all the way behind the counter. Basero advanced step by step: “No! I’m not!”

He quickly held his ground, raising his brows: “Why are you so filthy? Did you roll around in the dirt?”

In the end, the two were herded into the washroom to clean up properly, while the young boss tied on an apron and prepared a deluxe version of Golden Fried Rice for his busy returning friends.

Xie Jianxun finished washing up, feeling fresh and clean.

He returned to the storage room and packed up the things he and One had left behind.

During the meal, Alex was still chattering: “Luckily, Slieberlich is pretty far back, so there weren’t many bugs here. I was guarding the second floor earlier—took out any that came close, didn’t let them near.”

Basero took a sip of juice, barely swallowing the rice in his throat.

The caravan captain was full of praise: “So strong, so strong!”

Alex was speechless: “…Shut up.”

A moment later, he turned to Xie Jianxun, who was quietly and diligently tackling his fried rice, and asked puzzledly, “I just heard banging around in your room—what was that? Where’s One? Why hasn’t it come back yet?”

Basero chimed in: “One disappears the moment it takes a mission. I didn’t see it either.”

Xie Jianxun set down his plate and said seriously to them, “It’s waiting for me at the Transport Port.”

Alex didn’t react at first: “Going to the Transport Port right after killing bugs… Oh.” He froze, realizing belatedly.

Basero followed up: “So, you’re leaving.”

He sighed. “Time flies, doesn’t it.”

Xie Jianxun nodded absentmindedly, glanced at the time on his Light Brain—about forty minutes until the appointed time, maybe less.

He set down his spoon apologetically. “Yes, I’ve sorted everything out. I have to go.”

Alex stood up hurriedly, fumbling with his apron: “I’ll walk you out.”

Xie Jianxun stopped him: “No need, no need. I can go by myself.”

He didn’t want his friends seeing him off—it would only add to the sadness of parting. Besides, he already had the coordinates for this planet; it wasn’t like he couldn’t come back.

Once the Federation took over and civilian base stations were activated, they could even reconnect on the holographic Star Net.

“Here, this is my Light Brain comm code.”

At the hotel entrance, amid the bustle of crowds and guests coming and going, Xie Jianxun tapped his Light Brain to display the number for them.

Once Alex and the others’ Light Brains connected to the network, they could chat face-to-face on them.

After walking some distance, Alex fell silent for a moment, frowning.

“I still feel like something’s off… Am I imagining it?”

He instinctively took a few steps forward and called out to Xie Jianxun, who had reached the street corner: “Xie! You sure you don’t need it? Do you know the way?”

The handsome young man with golden pupils turned back, flashing them a big, brilliant smile. He raised his hand like a flower blooming in the wind, waving goodbye.

His face was fair and glowing, the desert sun obscuring the details of his features. Finally, he vanished around the other side of the street.

Basero sighed and patted his shoulder reassuringly.

“We’ll see them again someday.”

He had guessed something, lost in thought. “We’ll save up money, buy one of those new Light Brains… It’ll happen.”

The transport ship had been notified in advance, perfectly timed for the next departure.

Two empty tickets exchanged for a narrow window-side cabin.

As Xie Jianxun was about to board the transport ship, Delin’s shout came from afar.

He turned back helplessly. “Didn’t I say no need to see me off…”

Delin came running up, panting, barely stopping as he gasped for breath. Something slipped from his arms with his bending motion, and he caught it in panic.

“Boss! That… this! This is something you left behind, right?”

Xie Jianxun looked down—it was One’s long knife.

After it pierced the King Insect’s carapace, the long knife had gone missing. Xie Jianxun had nearly dug through the ruins to find it; he had no idea where Delin had gotten it.

Now it was covered in dust, the flames on its blade long extinguished.

Xie Jianxun took the long knife, hugging it just like Delin had—pretty heavy; you couldn’t even lift it without bracing.

“Thanks,”

Xie Jianxun said with a grin, his voice lightening a bit. “You got my comm code, right? If you need help with anything later, find me on Star Net.”

Delin gave him a thumbs-up: “No problem.”

It was time; the transport ship cabin door closed.

From the small window porthole, Xie Jianxun could still see Delin running alongside.

He ran while shouting something unintelligible.

The wind whipped his hair and face into a mess, but he didn’t give up, sprinting to the end of the Transport Port before finally stopping.

Xie Jianxun gripped the cabin door handrail tightly, watching the city shrink gradually in his view.

The familiar people and sights faded away, the scene shifting into the silent, unpredictable void of space.

It felt completely different from the first time he left home on a spaceship.

Back then, he had only felt relief at gaining a chance to breathe, a temporary freedom. Now, it felt especially reluctant to leave.

A crew member came to guide him to his cabin.

Given that he was a distinguished guest added last-minute by the City Lord, the crew member’s attitude was exceptionally attentive.

On this inch-of-gold transport ship, they even cleared out a private cabin for him to rest—something only the City Lord’s orders could achieve.

Unfortunately, the City Lord was extremely busy and overwhelmed, with no time to meet his guest personally.

With that in mind, the crew member asked, “Sir, the ship offers three simple dinner set options. I’ll bring the menu shortly.”

Xie Jianxun pulled back his thoughts and nodded politely. “Thank you.”

He glanced at his Light Brain—twenty-five minutes left.

He sat on the chair in his cabin. The room was narrow, about the size of two beds, so Xie Jianxun had to face the door to stretch his legs out straight.

Surprisingly, the cabin came with a porthole.

He pushed the chair under the bunk, walked to the porthole, and peered out at the vast universe. On the other side, something seemed to flicker with light.

Curiously, he leaned closer—it didn’t look like starlight.

Was it the Far Voyage Army fleet?

His heart leaped, fearing the fleet would appear any second. The next moment, the light vanished.

Xie Jianxun breathed a sigh of relief, turned back to sit on the bunk, and planned to organize his Light Brain. It was cluttered with all sorts of things that needed sorting separately from One’s.

Otherwise, when the Mechanical Puppet woke up surrounded by junk—what kind of nonsense would that be?

After rummaging, he found a hard drive.

Back when they were inside the Federal Ship, One had said it contained some important files, but it could also be used normally as a drive.

Xie Jianxun plugged the hard drive into his Light Brain, and a light screen popped up before him.

The drive was impeccably clean, containing only two files—one large and one small.

The large one was enormous, taking up four-fifths of the drive’s space.

Xie Jianxun was shocked and double-checked the capacity.

No mistake—it really was four-fifths, a solid red bar.

What kind of file could occupy four-fifths of this already massive drive’s space?!

The small one was tiny, barely visible in the storage readout.

But Xie Jianxun opened it, because its title read:

To the one I love, please tell them.

“You are a kind, brave, extraordinarily talented adventurer, and you will surely find this file and hear what I want to say to you.

“By now, I have left—whether by death or exile.

“Resurrection is too difficult; please don’t trouble yourself over it, for I am merely an insignificant Mechanical Puppet, discarded by society.

“The words I said back then were just a little trick of mine. I never expected you’d reply. I only hoped you’d remember me.

“The other file contains all the memories stored in my chip since leaving the factory. They will join the explosives that could level the entire Golden City, becoming the most fitting inscription on my tombstone.”