In the interstellar travel team, the first people Ji Chenxi ran into weren’t those famous scholars he had expected, but a pair of dragon-and-phoenix twins from the same Imperial Star.
The two of them looked almost identical, not just in facial features but even in build. Both had long, straight hair, deep black mixed with a bold streak of bright blue. The moment Ji Chenxi saw them, he knew these were the ones sent to meet him.
Just one glance was enough for him to size them up: at the very least, both were A-level Alphas. There was a raw, unhidden aura of killing about them, the kind that comes from years spent dancing on the edge of a blade.
While Ji Chenxi was studying the twins, they were watching him too. The young man in front of them had long silver hair hanging loose, a single delicate tassel earring, a cool ear cuff, a leather restraint with chains, and a black T-shirt with several deliberate tears at the collar, paired with an oversized black jacket that screamed “edgy cool.”
Even on first meeting, the younger twin was struck by this effortless coolness.
It was rare for an Alpha who liked this style to have long hair.
As for the silver-haired Alpha in front of them, the little details piled up: starry blue eyes, mostly hidden by a black mask, black fingerless gloves, and several silver bracelets wrapped around his left wrist. Dangling from them were tiny silver charms—shaped like cats.
Ji Chenxi had been casually tossing a gold coin in his hand from the start. Now that the others had arrived, he simply threw the coin that marked his team membership to the twin who looked steadier.
The person caught it smoothly, checked his identity, and a slightly husky female voice asked softly, “Chenxi?”
Ji Chenxi nodded. “Chenxi, travel flight KR4007.”
The sharp, no-nonsense female Alpha nodded in return. “We’re mercenaries in the team. I’m the older sister, call me Nether. That’s my brother.”
The male Alpha, who had been quietly scrutinizing Ji Chenxi, nodded politely in response. “Shade. My travel code is Shade.”
Once Ji Chenxi connected their codes—Nether and Shade—he finally began the interstellar journey he had been waiting for.
No wonder it cost 9.99 million Star Coins per person just to join the group. It had taken him two whole years to grab a spot.
These two were insanely efficient. Just after meeting him, they whisked him through a maze of paths and onto a highly concealed starship.
Ji Chenxi’s brow creased ever so slightly. There were hidden, convenient launch points even at the edge of the Imperial Star? These two were even more capable than he had imagined. Not just anyone could use a takeoff point that evaded monitoring.
Noticing his frown, the older sister, more composed in demeanor, activated the starship while saying, “Don’t worry. Your travel is completely legal. It’s just that our team can’t show its movements openly, so we take this route. As for your safety, it’s fully covered. Nearly half of that 9.99 million fee goes to mercenaries like us to protect you.”
Whether it was fully legal or not didn’t matter; Ji Chenxi just had to nod if he didn’t want any trouble.
He already knew that nearly half of their fee went to hiring mercenaries. After all, the scholars didn’t need to make money this way. If they were short on funds, they could just ask the major financial clans for support. These rare, highly competitive spots weren’t about money—they were mainly for older scholars looking for a few young people genuinely interested in research.
The starship lifted off from the Imperial Star and glided into space.
Everything went smoothly. Ji Chenxi only needed to wait until the rendezvous point and then enjoy his journey.
Of course, if everything went this smoothly, he wouldn’t regret leaving home.
Just as he closed his eyes to rest, Shade—the one who had been quietly observing him—sat down beside him, staring thoughtfully.
Ji Chenxi lifted an eyelid slightly. “Something?”
“Can’t sit here if there’s nothing?” Shade teased.
This time, Ji Chenxi didn’t even bother lifting his eyelid.
The long-haired male Alpha gave a sly, almost sinister smile. “Which young master are you, acting all cocky! Not afraid we’ll drag you off and sell you?”
Ji Chenxi stared at him without expression.
Shade, who had just tried to scare him and failed, clicked his tongue in mild annoyance. “Huh… I’d been looking forward to this. Thought we’d meet some cheerful, lively second-generation kid. But you… you’re so boring.”
“Why would you think I’m cheerful?” Ji Chenxi asked, genuinely confused—he hadn’t given off that vibe at all.
“Chenxi! Your code name—so bright and sunny! Isn’t that supposed to belong to a cheerful little golden retriever type?”
Ji Chenxi crossed his arms and shut down the conversation completely.
Shade’s eyes lingered on the tiny cat charms on the silver chain around Ji Chenxi’s wrist, uncertain. “Wait… are you actually… sweet-cool style?”
Ji Chenxi: “….”
He glanced at the two extra eyebrow piercings and the row of ear cuffs the male Alpha had, finally understanding why Shade had approached him in the first place.
Shade waited for an answer from this silver-haired cool-A, but before Ji Chenxi could respond, his eyes suddenly darkened, staring out the window.
Shade didn’t understand what was happening at first, but he immediately felt the starship pivot sharply, and in the distance, a massive white light flared—like a cannon blast.
The dazzling beam looked beautiful, but if it hit their ship, even a small personal starship like theirs would be at least 30% damaged.
The previously nonchalant Shade jumped up instantly and ran to Nether’s side. “What’s happening? Why is there an attack?”
That sudden photon cannon strike had come completely out of nowhere.
Nether, who had just dodged the attack, stayed calm and continued piloting the starship steadily.
“There’s a large field of floating rocks here—perfect for an ambush. And anyone heading to Andromeda A-756 has to pass through this spot. That photon cannon just now was aimed straight at our ship. Looks like it’s either pirates after loot or some stray colonists,” Shade muttered, cursing under his breath.
Pirates could be a small or big problem. If it was just a minor pirate gang or a roaming group from a nearby system, they wouldn’t even care. Even the two of them together could handle dozens of attackers. The real worry was running into a larger pirate crew. In big pirate gangs, there are always a few skilled ones who can do serious damage. With enough firepower, their tiny personal starship would be at a serious disadvantage. On top of that, since they were just escorting one person, their ship wasn’t top-tier. Facing bigger pirates would mean both fewer numbers and weaker equipment.
Shade moved to the co-pilot seat, adjusting the data while scanning the surrounding area with exploration sensors, alert for the next attack.
“Did you see where the shot came from?” Nether asked.
“That was a single spot. They were trying to scare us and make us panic,” Shade replied.
Nether’s expression darkened. This kind of tactic—intentionally firing to spook rather than strike—is exactly the style of a large pirate gang.
While the siblings stayed alert and defensive, Ji Chenxi stared out the round window at the nebula and the massive floating rocks flashing past, feeling a little uneasy.
This was a huge floating-rock zone. If pirates were lurking here, they’d be like fat rats wandering in front of a cat—way too obvious a target.
At first, Ji Chenxi wondered if this was some kind of revenge from Chi Zhuo. The route of this interstellar trip was highly secret, but it wasn’t impossible for Chi Zhuo’s hidden forces to find out. Partnering with pirates to take out an Imperial prince? That would be too convenient. Even if the old man investigated afterward, he probably wouldn’t uncover anything. But Ji Chenxi quickly ruled this out.
It shouldn’t be Chi Zhuo.
Chi Zhuo’s methods weren’t exactly clean, but he had limits. Collaborating with pirates to kill an Imperial prince didn’t match his usual style.
So… Ji Chenxi was just unlucky?
The floating-rock zone was extremely dangerous. Any pirates hiding here could easily wipe out travelers. That’s why there was usually a small military outpost near major floating-rock zones along common routes. Right now, it seemed this outpost might be temporarily under pirate control.
Even temporary control could only last half a day. After that, the outpost needed to submit its security codes. Pirates couldn’t crack the special codes, and any delay or wrong transmission would trigger alarms and alert nearby military units. This meant the pirates lying in wait here could very well have been acting on purpose.
Shade was already cursing loudly, visibly frustrated. “What the hell… whose pirate gang is this? Are they out of their minds?”
Nether didn’t say a word, just carefully controlled the starship. In the process, she had already dodged several extremely dangerous attacks. At first, the strikes seemed almost playful, like a cat teasing a mouse. But as time went on, it became clear they weren’t just toying with them—they actually wanted to trap them. For some reason, even after half a day, they hadn’t been able to take the ship down, and the attacks were no longer limited to minor, precise damage—they were now real threats.
Shade, distracted by the tricky maneuvers, didn’t even have the energy to curse anymore. He worked alongside Nether, manipulating the ship as best he could while thinking, ‘Damn, we’re unlucky.’
The further the starship flew and the more aggressive the attacks became, Shade began to sense something off. “These tactics… they’re too professional. Are we really worth hunting like this, in such a small personal ship?”
Nether’s hands flowed over the controls, dodging two photon blasts aimed almost directly at the command center.
“This isn’t about loot anymore,” Shade said with a cold laugh, glancing at the silver-haired, coolly dressed young man behind them.
“Shade, watch the surroundings,” Nether reminded him.
“Watch what? We’re definitely being hunted by an elite squad from a large pirate gang. Their attacks are clearly trying to herd us somewhere. And what’s there? They’re not after money.”
If not money, then of course—it was a person.
This wasn’t a simple pirate ambush.
Nether’s brow furrowed. She felt Shade was stating it too bluntly, but she also realized that what had seemed like easy money was suddenly much harder to earn.
The two of them were piloting a semi-modified personal starship. Escaping the pirates’ layered ambushes was nearly impossible. Their best option now would be to hand over the young man they were escorting.
But Nether wasn’t willing to do that. Mercenaries had reputations to uphold. If word got out that they’d handed over a client today, they’d never be trusted in the mercenary world again.
Shade’s gaze toward Chenxi had turned sharp. “So… kid, did you owe money to a pirate gang? Or are you some rich heir whose movements got exposed?”
Ji Chenxi, seemingly unaffected by Shade’s aggressive tone, remained calm. “First, I don’t owe any pirate gang. Second, I’m not some rich heir. Finally, I’ll admit—there are quite a few people who want me dead.”
In reality, Ji Chenxi didn’t have countless enemies. Lately, the only real enemy he’d provoked was Chi Zhuo. Excluding him, there were only two others: his alpha older brother and sister, and the forces backing them. He didn’t know which of the two had made this move, but it was basically a one-or-the-other situation.
The impatient, aggressive attacks didn’t match the second sister’s practical style, which made it more likely the culprit was his older brother.
Among the three royal heirs, Ji Chenxi was the only legitimate son, while his older brother was the firstborn. His brother had never taken their second sister seriously. Even though she was an alpha, he considered her chances of inheriting the throne slim, so he focused on Ji Chenxi instead. But he failed to consider that their second sister had a huge military force supporting her. Recently, she had also grown close to the only son of another military faction. In total, there were four major factions. If she leaned on two of them, the throne’s future could still be uncertain. Yet his older brother ignored her entirely and targeted Ji Chenxi, who had little interest in the throne anyway.
At this point, it seemed his second sister’s backing was quietly pleased with how things were going—maybe even nudging events along a little.
Ji Chenxi frowned. What had started as a smooth interstellar trip was suddenly looking far from pleasant.
Meanwhile, Shade was already howling in disbelief. “So you knew all along that a lot of people wanted you dead?”
Ji Chenxi gave a nonchalant “hmph.”
He moved behind the two of them, intending to first gauge the strength of the pirate gang that wanted him dead.
Shade, at this point, didn’t know what to say. ‘No wonder so many people want him dead… he’s so calm.’
Ji Chenxi asked Nether, “Can we get out of this?”
“Trying to escape? I’ve been attempting jump drives from the start,” she replied.
With so many attacks surrounding them, the only way out was a quick jump.
“Jumping without a buffer requires S-level spiritual power,” Shade muttered.
Alpha levels were judged on two points: spiritual power and physical strength. Usually, these were combined into a single level, since most Alphas had similar strength and spiritual ability. Of course, some had stronger mind than body, or vice versa.
“I’m an A-level Alpha in physical strength, and A+ in spiritual power. I can try a jump. Success probability… around thirty percent. Your choice if you want to gamble.”
“An A+ without buffer jumps should succeed about sixty percent of the time. The reason you say thirty percent is because there’s a chance the jump won’t carry us very far.”
Shade’s gaze on Ji Chenxi sharpened. This man truly wasn’t an ordinary Alpha.
Nether’s expression didn’t change at all. She continued piloting the starship. The constant dodging almost forced the ship into a full 360° rotation, yet Ji Chenxi remained steady behind them. His blue eyes lightly scanned the wide display screen, his posture unshaken.
“If you’re brave enough, you can let me try. I can pilot the starship,” Ji Chenxi said.
Shade was stunned. “You… S-level spiritual power?”
Ji Chenxi nodded.
Compared to Shade’s shock, Nether stayed composed. She caught the point in his words. “Why only if one is brave?”
“Because I just turned eighteen. I’ve never piloted a real starship. Everything I’ve ever piloted was virtual—just a simulation in the net.”
Shade, who had just been so shocked and wanted to put Ji Chenxi in the cockpit immediately, froze. ‘Wait… this guy’s never piloted a real starship. Isn’t he going to get us all killed?’
Hello, everyone ヾ(＾∇＾). I hope you enjoyed the story! If you’re feeling generous, please buy me a coffee, share/comment on my translated works! Check out the link below for early chapters. (๑>ᴗ<๑)
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