When those two fell, Xie Jianxun nearly spat out his tomato juice.
The drink got stuck in his throat, and he coughed violently for a good while, coughing until his face turned red. He couldn’t believe what he had just seen.
Those two hadn’t even said much, and they were already… uh, gone?
Suddenly, a shiver ran through him. Someone had come up behind him and pressed a hand to his back. “Scared?”
The star pirate leader burst out laughing.
“Your courage is as small as a lamb’s. If you go out adventuring, death is something you’ll encounter all the time.”
His words were merciless, but his palm stayed against Xie Jianxun’s back, stroking it a few times as if to soothe him.
Xie Jianxun finally coughed up the tomato juice from his throat. He looked at Huo Jing in a daze, then glanced down at the two corpses.
Their temples had been precisely shot, leaving a charred black hole, but no blood had flowed out.
This was why star pirates loved laser weapons so much. Even with all the shouting and killing, there was no blood pollution, not even much gore to see.
Even when someone got their temple blasted like that.
Huo Jing didn’t stop him from looking. Instead, he said, “Take a good look. Who knows if you’ll see something like this again.”
Xie Jianxun: “…”
He’d rather never see it again!
Soon, the star pirates swept the bodies away like trash, and the banquet hall was clean and tidy once more.
Music started up, the dance floor reopened, and the star pirates twisted their bodies as they slid back into it, acting as if nothing had happened.
The clamor and laughter filled the air on this deck again.
Captain’s Quarters.
The airlock door hissed open, releasing a long jet of air.
Huo Jing strode in first, followed by the still-dazed Xie Jianxun.
The star pirate leader entered and yanked at his collar, popping the buttons open. Then he flung himself onto the sofa and squinted at him.
Behind Xie Jianxun, the airlock door sealed shut.
He drifted in on unsteady feet and subconsciously followed to the sofa’s edge.
Huo Jing shifted over a bit, and sure enough, the young master didn’t think twice—he plopped right down next to him, pressed close.
Seeing him still lost in thought, Huo Jing leaned in and murmured, “You’re squishing me.”
Xie Jianxun snapped back to reality and looked down. He realized this was just a slightly wide single-person sofa.
One person could sit comfortably, but with two crammed on, Huo Jing had been pushed into the corner.
He hurried to stand. “Oh! Sorry, I’ll move to—”
Before he could finish, as he rose halfway, someone grabbed the hem of his shirt.
Off-balance, he tumbled right back down.
Huo Jing magnanimously said, “It’s fine. Squeezed together is warmer.”
Xie Jianxun: “…Are you sick?”
Now fully awake, he thought of the scene from earlier and whispered, “You just… shot them like that?”
“What else?”
Huo Jing propped his cheek on one hand, glancing sideways at him. “Should I have danced with them first?”
Xie Jianxun was stunned. “You trust what I said just like that? Besides, there’s no evidence, no trial… Surely your city has procedures like that?”
“…”
“What evidence do I need?”
Huo Jing said flatly, withdrawing his gaze to stare straight ahead.
“My word is evidence. My actions are the trial.”
“If someone plots against me right in front of me, and I go soft, hesitate instead of crushing every threat with the harshest methods… guess what they’d do to me?”
Silence fell over the Captain’s Quarters.
Xie Jianxun gazed at him, understanding the meaning behind Huo Jing’s words.
This ship wasn’t as peaceful as he’d imagined. Beneath the playful banter and laughter lurked brutal survival of the fittest.
Huo Jing had to maintain his boss’s authority at every moment to keep his restless crew in check.
That whatever-city of his must have been brutally competitive.
After a moment, sure enough, the little lamb scooted closer, all sad, and leaned against him with a sigh.
The young master’s heart was soft; he couldn’t stand to see others suffer.
“Have you had it hard before?” Xie Jianxun murmured. “Even as the boss, do you have to walk a tightrope with everything?”
“Pfft.”
The star pirate leader suddenly laughed, savoring the young master’s comfort. He reached out and pinched his cheek.
In a rare moment of conscience, he decided to tell the truth.
“Nope.”
A strange glint flickered in his eyes—whether truth or lie depended entirely on him.
“Alright, truth is, I’d already noticed those two acting suspicious. I’m not an idiot. And the Main Ship is big, but I’ve got eyes planted in the lower levels. Every little thing gets reported back to me.”
Xie Jianxun silently withdrew his hand.
Huo Jing: “Being the boss is simple—beat them all until they submit and acknowledge me. Young master, where are you going?”
Xie Jianxun stood resolutely and headed for the door.
“If I let you mess with me anymore, I’ll…”
The quick-handed pirate boss grabbed his shirt hem, stopping him dead.
“Don’t go. Sit with me a bit.”
The Great Star Pirate kept hawking his single-person sofa. “We’re about to pass through an asteroid belt—it’s pretty spectacular. This is the best spot, with the huge floor-to-ceiling window. You can take it all in at once.”
Xie Jianxun: “Enjoy it yourself!”
The hand on his shirt hem didn’t budge.
“Fine,” Huo Jing said. “Then just a little longer.”
The smile faded from his face, and in that calm expression, his features looked even more profound and handsome.
A moment later, he said, “Watching alone is boring. Xunxun, have mercy and keep me company.”
Xie Jianxun really wanted to glare at him. Saying soft words while gripping my hand tight—that’s your idea of ‘mercy’?
In the end, he compromised, sitting back down heavily, not thrilled about it.
Huo Jing said happily, “Thanks, Xunxun.”
Xie Jianxun whipped his head around, shocked. “Don’t call me that!”
The Main Ship sailed steadily onward, and the asteroid belt Huo Jing had mentioned grew larger and swirled by before their eyes.
It really was beautiful—countless stars forming a long ribbon, vibrant colors ignited by some unnamed star.
But it was lonely too.
The stars kept each other company, while Huo Jing before had only been able to sit alone on this sofa facing the floor-to-ceiling window, quietly watching them drift away.
Now two people sat in the dark, squeezed on the same sofa, as the star river passed by the window.
Federation time, 10 p.m. The entire Siphon Whale dimmed unnecessary lights, entering quiet nighttime cruising mode.
Everything was hushed.
Only the Captain’s Quarters still had its lights on. Power restrictions clearly wouldn’t touch Huo Jing, no matter what.
Normally, he’d be lying in bed by now, playing some offline game on his Light Brain or reading something to wind down before sleep.
But now there was a problem: the young master absolutely refused to sleep with him.
“What’s wrong with sleeping here?”
Huo Jing said, shocked. “The bed’s huge and soft—three of you would fit easy. The living quarters below can’t compare.”
Xie Jianxun stuck to his guns. “I need my own room.”
Huo Jing: “You’re my guest.”
Xie Jianxun shot back, “Do all your other guests sleep in your bed too?”
Huo Jing frowned, recalling a past star pirate gathering where other bosses had swarmed his ship for a tour. He felt a bit nauseous.
“No, that’s different.”
Seeing him soften a little, Xie Jianxun scooted closer. “I’m not running away. I just want my own room. You’ve got plenty of empty cabins, right?”
The Great Star Pirate’s eyes darkened, and he gave a cold, displeased laugh. “Watch out—you might not sleep well tonight.”
In the end, Huo Jing called the First Mate to take him to an empty cabin in the living quarters.
“If you don’t like it, the Captain’s Quarters welcomes you back.”
Huo Jing stood by the airlock door, watching the First Mate and Xie Jianxun leave. The young master’s back practically radiated “finally free” vibes.
He couldn’t help feeling annoyed and clicked his tongue.
The First Mate assigned Xie Jianxun an empty cabin near the elevator, convenient for reaching any area.
The cabin was fully equipped, with its own small bathroom—pretty nice conditions.
Xie Jianxun walked around it once, then politely thanked the First Mate. “Thank you, First Mate sir. I’m very satisfied.”
The young First Mate glanced at his watch. “Glad to hear it. If you need anything, call my comm code—I’m always on.”
Before leaving, the First Mate stepped back, as if he had something to say.
“Tomorrow at six a.m., it might get noisy outside, with a ship-wide broadcast. It could disturb your sleep—do you need noise-canceling earplugs?”
Xie Jianxun asked curiously, “That noisy? What’s happening?”
The First Mate said slowly, “We’re about to arrive at PN-57 Planet. There’ll be a series of landing operations.”
He paused, reassuring him. “PN-57’s armed forces aren’t strong. We’ll wrap it up in about two hours, everyone back on the Main Ship, then initiate Space Leap. If you’re not used to leaping, head to the hall—there are dedicated leap safety chairs.”
Xie Jianxun thanked him out of habit. “Thanks, sir. I’m handling leaps fine so far… Battle?”
He caught on to one word, puzzled.
