Ch. 106..110: Interstellar_ Return of the Villain Chapter 106-110

Chapter 106: Cheap Love

When Alon got Mandy’s call, he nearly jumped out of his chair. "Where are you?" he asked, his voice tight.

"I don’t know exactly. I just found Vivian. She was..." Mandy’s voice trailed off, leaving the rest hanging in the air.

As Mandy continued, Alon’s vision blurred, and his hands started to tremble. "I’ll be there right away!" he promised, his voice urgent.

He quickly alerted the bodyguards who were still out searching and turned to Lyra. "Something urgent’s come up today. Can we pick this up tomorrow?"

It was clear his mind was elsewhere, no longer on the conversation with her.

"Sure," Lyra said with a slight smirk, her tone more accommodating than expected.

The housekeeper escorted Lyra to the door, but before she could say anything, Morrison arrived in a Lev, ready to pick her up. "I figured you would need to head back."

He stepped out quickly, opening the door for her. "Everything’s set at the factory."

"Good," Lyra nodded as she climbed into the car.

Once they were out of the housekeeper’s view, she allowed herself a small smile. "See if your friend wants to be my driver. If not, find him something else that fits."

"He only finished elementary school, so he’d definitely take the driving job. All of us just want to escape that awful place."

Back in the Forgotten Quarter, Mandy watched as the bodyguards swarmed like bees, drawing unwanted attention throughout the area.

"Vivian’s inside," she said quietly.

The bodyguards stormed the building, and the chaotic sounds turned into painful screams.

The man who had been assaulting Vivian froze. Terror washed over him as multiple particle guns aimed straight at him.

Shaking, he threw his hands up in surrender.

Vivian, bruised and battered, struggled to stand. The security captain, a level-seven Peculiar, quickly removed his jacket and placed it around her.

Blood trailed down her legs as she pulled a gun from the man’s body and fired at his manhood.

Before collapsing, Vivian managed to whisper, "Cut it off. I want him alive."

The entire Forgotten Quarter felt the tension rise, with other groups too frightened to even make a sound.

When Alon finally arrived, the bodyguards had already decimated the group. "Where is she?" he demanded.

The security captain opened the car door, revealing the disheveled Vivian inside.

Without warning, Alon kicked the captain to the ground.

"I told you to find and protect her, and this is what you give me?!" His voice was raw with anger, his eyes red with rage. No matter how frustrated he had been with Vivian’s reckless behavior, all he felt now was overwhelming pain.

The bodyguards stood in silence, heads bowed. He was fully aware that they were in deep trouble once they got back.

On the drive to the hospital, Alon turned to the security captain, his voice icy. "Where is it?"

The captain whispered something, and Alon’s expression grew darker. "Lock that monster up and give him a proper ’welcome,’" he ordered, a dangerous edge to his tone.

After Vivian was treated for her injuries, Alon noticed Mandy sitting quietly in the corner. He walked over, his face stern.

Mandy looked up, her eyes unfocused. "Alon..."

"Miss Wright," Alon cut her off, his voice cold. "Please address me properly."

His words, sharp as a blade, drained what little color remained in Mandy’s face.

"Why didn’t you contact me sooner? Instead, you turned off your opticomputer, just like Vi!" The once gentle and composed man now stood before her, his voice as biting as a winter chill. "Vivian suffered because of this, and you bear at least half the blame! Don’t you feel any guilt as her friend, knowing what she went through?"

He gently tilted her chin upward, a smirk tugging at his lips. "I thought you were obsessed with me. But now, it seems it’s just ordinary and cheap feelings."

Those words hit harder than any blow.

Mandy felt like her heart had been torn out and left to dangle on display, with nothing but ridicule and contempt from those watching.

Yet, she was the one who had been forced into this mess.

She knew there had been a way out, a chance for both of them to escape, but Vivian had used her as a distraction, a mere stepping stone.

She had barely made it back alive.

Slowly, Mandy’s expression shifted from shock and hurt to a cold emptiness, tinged with sarcasm. "If I didn’t care about you, I wouldn’t have reached out." It was something she would never normally say. "I could’ve just run, left Vivian behind to be captured and tortured... By the time you found her, she would’ve been completely broken, wouldn’t she? And she took it on herself, not me."

Alon’s face twisted with anger as he pushed her away. "You’re a snake! How could Vivian ever be friends with someone like you?"

Tears streamed down Mandy’s face as she covered it with her hands, her voice breaking. "You’re right... I never should’ve been her friend. I’ll return the money. I need to speak to Vivian, and once she’s awake, I’ll say what I have to and then disappear. You’ll never have to deal with me again."

With that, she clutched her torn clothes and slowly slid down the wall, ending up on the cold floor.

...

In the other room, with a skilled healer at her side, Vivian woke up quickly, though she looked far from the girl she had been before.

Sitting up, she glanced around, realizing she had been saved, and frustration flared within her. She slammed her fist against the bed.

Those bastards—they would pay for this.

"Vivian, how are you feeling?" Mandy’s voice came from the bedside. She was now in fresh clothes, her demeanor calm, but something in her eyes made Vivian uneasy.

"Yes, I feel blissful and blessed after being tortured by those animals! And you?" As she yelled impatiently, Vivian remembered how she had pushed Mandy toward those men to buy herself time, a small pang of guilt gnawing at her.

But Mandy’s gaze had changed. No longer cautious, she stared straight at Vivian, her eyes reflecting the cold, harsh light like a specter of revenge. "I killed those men, found you, and then called your brother for help."

She didn’t give Vivian a chance to respond before adding, "But your brother blamed me for not contacting him sooner and accused me of being partly responsible for what happened to you. He humiliated me."

Guilt briefly flickered in Vivian’s mind, but Mandy’s tone, dripping with sarcasm and bitterness, made her eyes widen.

"Are you blaming me?" Vivian asked.

"Shouldn’t I?" Mandy slowly pulled back her clothes, revealing the bruises and bite marks on her skin. "You were rebelling against your family, but why did I have to pay the price alongside you?"

Vivian quickly looked away, unable to bear the sight of Mandy’s injuries. "Don’t forget, you owe my family money. What’s wrong with asking you to help out?"

"I’ve already paid it back. And I’m not saying this to get an apology." Mandy stood up, her expression unreadable. "Vivian, do you know the difference between a two-astrocredit loaf of bread and one that costs ten?"

Vivian didn’t answer, so Mandy continued, her voice cool and distant. "For you, it’s just a matter of taste. But for me, it’s the difference between eating and starving."

Mandy paused, her words heavy with finality. "See? We’re worlds apart from each other. From now on, we’re no longer friends."

Mandy adjusted her clothes slowly, then stood up and walked away without looking back.

Vivian watched her go, her small, frail figure fading into the distance. To Vivian, Mandy was just another fleeting presence in her otherwise glamorous life, someone who would be forgotten in time.

Mandy didn’t allow herself to dwell on the sadness. With the day still young, she decided to head to the factory to continue her part-time job.

Not long after she clocked in, she was summoned to the office by Lyra.

The contrast between their moods couldn’t have been more striking.

Lyra stood by the window, her gaze resting on the girl before her. "Have you been crying?" she asked, her voice laced with curiosity.

 

Chapter 107: It’s A Secret

Mandy knew Lyra wouldn’t offer any comforting words, yet she felt a deep sense of security around her. Suddenly, she flung herself into Lyra’s arms, letting out all her emotions in loud, uncontrollable sobs.

"I... I hate feeling this weak, but what he said really got to me...!"

Lyra stood by the window, silent and patient as Mandy cried. After a while, she gently nudged Mandy back and took a tissue from Morrison, wiping away Mandy’s tears with a practiced hand.

"In the grand scheme of things, men are just one piece of life’s puzzle. If you build your strength, there’ll be plenty more like Alon to choose from," Lyra said, her voice cool and detached, yet somehow comforting.

Mandy nodded slightly, pulling herself together, though still a bit embarrassed. "About the money you lent me..."

"I was going to dock your pay by ten percent until it was repaid. But Morrison mentioned you’ve been doing well at work, so I decided to give you a ten percent raise. That way, your raise cancels out the repayment. You don’t owe me anything, but you won’t see a pay bump anytime soon either."

Lyra lightly patted Mandy’s shoulder with her slender fingers. "From now on, watch and learn from Morrison on how to manage people. Keep your head high, and don’t let anyone push you around."

It was as if Lyra had passed some of her own strength onto Mandy. Feeling a renewed sense of resolve, Mandy nodded and headed back to the workshop.

In the office, Morrison noticed a rare, slight smile on Lyra’s face. Unable to resist, he asked, "You really see potential in her, don’t you?"

"A third-level Peculiar at eighteen, and a military cadet to boot—do you think talents like that are common?"

Besides, Mandy had a clean slate. She was the type to be fiercely loyal once she committed to someone, making her worth the investment.

"And you," Lyra added with a sharp look, "should be finding more people like her unless you’re aiming to work around the clock."

Morrison’s eyelid twitched. Lyra was generous, no doubt, but she definitely knew how to get the most out of everyone around her.

The next day, Lyra made another visit to the Mendezs.

Not wanting to risk any more delays, Alon promptly presented her with the contract. "If everything looks good, we can move on to the inspection."

"There’s one thing," Lyra said, pointing to the one hundred million penalty clause. "Make it ten times higher."

Alon’s expression tightened. "You don’t trust us?"

She met his gaze, her tone light but firm. "Why should I?"

Her words left him no room to argue. He quickly adjusted the contract and handed it back. "Now, can we see the thing I wanted?"

"Bring them out."

A housekeeper appeared, placing a sleek black metal box on the coffee table. She carefully lifted the lid to reveal a small green fruit with white spots.

At present, there’s no straightforward way to determine the exact level of these plants. Only specialized energy-detection devices can give an accurate reading.

Lyra pulled out her own device and scanned the fruit. The screen flashed the result: White Dots, level-nine.

Satisfied, she and Alon signed the contract and proceeded with the treatment for Jorathon.

Perhaps due to the stress caused by Vivian’s issues, Jorathon’s health had worsened after his outburst. He looked noticeably weaker, even within just one day.

Lying in bed, the old man’s voice was full of hope. "I’m counting on you. Thanks for doing this."

"It’s a mutual benefit." Lyra took out the prepared medicine, ready to administer it.

Just then, a doctor, summoned by Alon, stepped in. "We need to examine that first."

Lyra swiftly dodged his hand, her expression hardening. "This is a secret formula."

The air instantly thickened with tension.

Jorathon gestured for the doctor to step back. "If it’s a secret formula, I’m sure she knows what she’s doing." He glanced at Lyra, who gave a confident nod.

"I’m glad you understand, Mr. Mendez, said Lyra."

Jorathon chuckled, sure that she couldn’t pull any tricks under his watchful eye. He took the medicine and downed it, grimacing at the bitterness.

But as soon as Lyra activated her superpower, his eyes widened in astonishment—it was actually working.

Jorathon suffered from a brutal genetic disease known as Brain Stiffness, one of the deadliest in the Alliance.

The disease caused rapid brain cell death, leading to the brain and brainstem hardening over time. Even those with superpowers found their abilities gradually weakening until, at death, the brain would shrink to the size of a walnut.

Along the way, the condition could cause paralysis, memory loss, epilepsy, and other severe issues.

Despite the Mendez family’s immense wealth, which had provided the best care possible, Jorathon had reached a stage where even top experts were at a loss.

So when he heard that someone in the Wright family had been cured through genetic therapy, he wasted no time and spared no expense to enlist Lyra’s help.

His anger at the person who nearly killed her was so intense that he banished them to a remote planet as punishment.

Now, as his withered nerve cells regained their vitality, even his once-fading superpower felt strong again. He was on the verge of tears, overwhelmed with relief.

About five hours later, a visibly drained Lyra finally withdrew her superpower. Alon, who had been keeping a close watch, quickly stood up. "Is it done?"

When she nodded, a group of doctors rushed forward to examine Jorathon. They stared at his rejuvenated, healthy brain in stunned silence.

"He’s actually cured?!"

"This is a miracle!"

"What kind of medicine did she use? We need to know!"

Their eyes were locked on Lyra, burning with curiosity. ’Is it her unique superpower or the mysterious medicine that worked?’ But, bound by confidentiality agreements, they couldn’t voice their questions.

Lyra took a moment to catch her breath, then stretched out her hand to Alon. "Bring me the level-nine White Dots."

Alon nodded, signaling the housekeeper to present the box to Lyra. She glanced at it but didn’t reach out to take it. Instead, she looked Alon in the eye and asked, "What’s this supposed to mean?"

Alon, still riding the wave of his earlier joy, narrowed his eyes slightly. "I’m not sure what you’re implying."

Lyra’s voice turned icy. "I asked for level-nine White Dots, but you’re handing me a level-eight. Do you think I’m that easy to fool?"

Alon laughed, as if she had told a joke. "Check it yourself. Now you accuse us of deceit? It seems you’re the one trying to stir up trouble."

"I’m the one making things difficult?" Lyra echoed, her lips twisting into a mocking smile.

At that moment, Jorathon, who had been listening quietly, sat up in bed. He threw on a coat, and smiled kindly. "Young miss, I could really use that level-nine White Dots. How about you take this level-eight one, and I’ll compensate you for the difference?"

Standing alone in the large treatment room, Lyra raised an eyebrow, her voice dripping with ice. "So, you’re planning to betray me after I helped you?"

Jorathon chuckled softly, his voice calm. "Not exactly. But since my granddaughter went through quite an ordeal because of you, as her grandfather, it’s only fair that I settle the score on her behalf."

As they locked eyes, both the old man and the young woman exchanged cryptic smiles, each reading the other like a well-worn book.

But then, in a shocking twist, the once-commanding Jorathon turned pale and collapsed.

The doctors rushed to his side, their urgent examination quickly turning to disbelief.

"How could this happen?" they exclaimed, bewildered as they watched the disease they thought had been cured return with a vengeance, aggressively attacking his brain.

"You...!" Alon, consumed by rage, hurled a water bullet at Lyra. "What have you done?!"

Lyra easily sidestepped the attack, a calm smile playing on her lips. "So, you’re allowed to deceive me with level-eight plants, but I’m not allowed a little trick of my own?"

Alon’s eyes widened as the realization hit him—she had known all along that the box didn’t contain the level-nine White Dots!

"How did you know?" he demanded, scanning the room with suspicion, searching for any sign of betrayal among his people.

Chapter 108: Plant Gone

"Don’t worry about how I know," Lyra said as she cast a quick glance at Jorathon, who had slumped back onto the bed, looking even frailer.

She flashed a smile at Alon and the others, then asked, "Do you still want me to save him or not?"

That smile wasn’t comforting—it was chilling.

The answer was obvious. After days of watching Jorathon’s condition worsen, and nearly losing him, they were desperate to save him.

Yet now, with her deception revealed, Alon felt trapped, as if Lyra had a knife pressed to his throat. The Mendez family had two level-seven Peculiars, but he knew they couldn’t use force against her.

Taking a deep breath, Alon wiped his face before asking, "What exactly do you want?"

Lyra slapped a contract down onto the machine beside the bed, leaning forward slightly. "I want a ship with official Wyrmtrace planet flight rights, and it better have at least 500,000 tons of cargo capacity. Whether you rent it or buy it, I want it for at least ten years."

The Wyrmtrace planet was still off-limits for most, with only a few major players, backed by official connections, currently extracting resources.

For someone like Lyra, getting flight rights was nearly impossible, and securing approval to build a commercial ship would take forever.

Even if she managed to get a ship, she’d still be missing the star maps needed for navigation, which were restricted to officially certified vessels.

Her plan hinged on Wyrmtrace opening up to the entire Alliance for immigration, but by then, her share of the profits would be small.

But now, with this deal, the Mendez family was giving her a golden ticket.

At that moment, Lyra wasn’t just the cold, calculating figure they’d known. Her dark eyes gleamed with ambition.

Alon, shocked by her audacity, could only stare in disbelief before letting out a bitter laugh. "You sure dream big."

"I can keep the old man alive for another fifty years without a relapse. That’s my only condition," Lyra said, ignoring his sarcasm. "I’m already upset about not getting the level-nine plants. This is your last chance to negotiate. The choice is yours."

Now, it was up to them to decide whether Jorathon’s life was worth more than a ship with official flight rights.

Her demand struck the Mendez family where it hurt.

They only had four ships with those rights, and with limited resources, losing even a bit of cargo capacity would cut into their profits.

If they loaded less, someone else would take more.

Alon glanced at Jorathon on the bed. The old man opened his eyes slightly and gave him a knowing wink.

"Deal!" Alon finally agreed.

Lyra was satisfied. She immediately tossed the old contract into the trash and signed the agreement for the ship transfer.

Of course, this was just an internal agreement. Officially transferring flight rights was impossible. When the ship was eventually used, it would still have to be under the Mendez name.

Then Lyra added another condition, "Mr. Mendez’s illness can’t be cured all at once. He’ll need treatments with superpower about every two years."

As Alon was about to sign, he hesitated. "Lyra, don’t push your luck!"

"It’s a genetic disease. I can’t rewrite a person’s DNA."

Even if she really could do that, there’d be a doubt if the person was himself anymore.

Lyra spread her hands, a smirk playing on her lips. "And just so you know, I remember exactly what your grandfather told me."

Jorathon had tried to stand up for his beloved granddaughter, but now both of their lives were in Lyra’s hands, and that knowledge made her feel completely secure.

This was exactly what Alon had feared. "But why should I trust you’ll keep your word? We have no way to control you."

The person standing before him had growing ambitions. What if one day she wanted something more and used his grandfather’s life as leverage?

Lyra shifted her gaze to the housekeeper nearby. "Sure, killing me might be easy for you, but that would only speed up Jorathon’s death."

She paused, letting the words sink in before continuing, "I’m someone who values mutual satisfaction and a win-win situation."

She wasn’t about to push her luck. Draining the Mendez family dry would only lead to an early demise.

"Mutual satisfaction? Hmph." Alon shot her a disdainful look, then quickly signed the document and slid it over to her.

Lyra skimmed through it, satisfied, and signed her name without hesitation.

Without waiting for a prompt, she walked over to the bed. This time, there were no theatrics—just an hour later, a bright green light flowed into Jorathon’s body, quickly revitalizing him.

Given the earlier deception, they insisted she stay for the doctor’s observation.

"So he doesn’t need the potion this time?" one of the doctors asked, puzzled.

Lyra didn’t even blink. "The effects are still active."

Those potions were just a concoction of ordinary plants from an unknown planet, a clever cover to mask her superpower.

Once it was confirmed that Jorathon wouldn’t relapse anytime soon, Alon finally allowed himself to relax. "You can go now," he said.

Lyra nodded and left without hesitation.

Alon stood by the window, watching her leave, a wave of helplessness washing over him.

At that moment, the housekeeper approached quietly and reported in a low voice, "Sir, Ryan said the person in the basement insists they saw nothing."

Alon straightened up, his expression hardening. "And what about the people searching the Forgotten Quarter?"

"They sealed off the trading channels immediately and conducted a thorough search, but found nothing."

"Vi claimed she lost it while fleeing in a panic. Those scumbags saw nothing, and the search came up empty..." Alon’s brow furrowed deeply. "Could the White Dots have just vanished?"

It wasn’t that he wanted to back out of the deal, but the item had truly gone missing.

Just then, Jorathon sat up in bed, looking much stronger, and he began dressing himself calmly. "Alon, there’s no need to search any further."

"But that thing could help you advance in the future."

"Don’t you understand?" The old man’s eyes sharpened as he looked at Alon, seeing through everything. "Only a few people knew Vivian stole the White Dots."

Alon froze, the realization hitting him like a ton of bricks. "I’ll go find her!"

"Let it go. My recovery is what matters most. No need to fight over a level-nine plant." The old man now resembled a lion waking from slumber. "I haven’t been well these past years. It’s time to deal with those who’ve been overstepping."

Meanwhile, Lyra had reached the gates of the Mendez estate.

The new driver, Crag, quickly opened the car door for her. "Boss, should we head back?"

"Yes."

As they drove, Crag kept sneaking glances at his young boss through the rearview mirror, only to be caught. He immediately flashed an embarrassed smile.

Lyra didn’t seem to mind and asked, "First day, huh? How do you feel?"

Crag straightened up quickly. "Much better than being a thug in the Forgotten Quarter. My sister and brother even got into college, thanks to you."

Lyra nodded slightly. "You earned it yourself."

Chapter 109: One Step Up

Lyra’s office had a secret rest room, tucked away from prying eyes.

After making her way back to the factory, she swiftly handed out a few critical orders, instructing Morrison that, under no circumstances should she be disturbed for the next two hours.

With that, she disappeared into the hidden rest room.

Once inside, she approached a safe embedded in the wall. As she opened it, a small, grimy black metal box came into view.

The day before, after regaining her composure, Mandy had a moment of clarity: Vivian didn’t want Lyra to get her hands on this item, so Mandy decided to do exactly the opposite. She felt compelled to repay those who had supported her, so she reached out to Morrison.

Morrison, knowing how much Lyra wanted the item, informed Lyra. She didn’t hesitate—she ordered him to secure it immediately.

Having grown up in the Forgotten Quarter, Morrison knew just who to contact. He reached out to Crag, an old and reliable friend, to retrieve the item discreetly, avoiding any attention from the Mendez.

To keep everything under wraps, he even had Mandy lay low before reaching out to Alon.

This is why Lyra instantly knew that what Alon handed over was a fake—the real item was already safely in her possession.

...

A sly smile crept across Lyra’s face as she examined the powerful herb before swallowing it.

Meanwhile, Morrison stood guard outside the office, alert for any potential disruptions. His vigilance paid off when, about an hour and a half later, he heard hurried footsteps approaching.

"Morrison, where is she?" Koros stormed down the hallway, his blue jumpsuit smeared with grease, and his welding goggles pushed up on his forehead. He was gripping a welding gun, his face contorted in anger.

Morrison felt a twinge of unease. He’d much rather face an avalanche of paperwork than deal with the tech staff—especially this particular one.

"What do you need with her?" he asked, trying to block Koros.

Koros’ eyes widened with frustration. "You’re asking me? Didn’t you send me the message? She promised I could stay focused on the mecha project, but now I’m suddenly being shipped off to Wyrmtrace to start something new?"

Morrison had a good sense of what Lyra was thinking and even agreed with the decision. And, this wasn’t the moment to let things escalate.

"She is busy. Come back in half an hour," he said, hoping to defuse the situation.

He was confident Lyra could handle this irate tech wizard.

"I don’t have half an hour!" Koros barked, waving the welding gun. "I didn’t even have time to shut off the power! If she doesn’t give me answers now, I’ll use this on her!"

The welding gun sparked as Koros shoved past Morrison, charging towards the rest room.

Morrison hesitated to physically restrain him, fearing he might accidentally hurt the crucial tech lead or damage important office files.

In a flash, Koros kicked open the rest room door, sending it crashing off its hinges.

Morrison, right on his heels, stopped dead in his tracks as he saw Koros frozen at the entrance, the welding gun slipping from his grasp.

Morrison peeked inside and felt a chill run down his spine.

The rest room, about ten square meters, was stark white—but now the bed, carpet, walls, and even the mirror were spattered with blood.

The strong, metallic scent filled the air, making both men feel a wave of nausea.

Morrison’s heart raced as he bolted two steps into the room. "Boss! Are you okay?!"

The sight of so much blood made his mind jump to the worst-case scenario. If something had happened to her, it could all fall apart—his job, his hard-earned place in this company, everything.

"Ugh... Didn’t I say not to disturb me for two hours?" Lyra’s voice sounded rough, like she’d swallowed a handful of glass shards.

A slender hand emerged from the other side of the bed, clutching the sheet with a tight grip.

As she moved, small cuts on her arm reopened, spilling more blood like crimson flowers blossoming on her skin.

The gruesome sight made Morrison shiver.

Lyra, now standing, looked like something out of a nightmare—drenched in blood, yet unnervingly calm.

Any pain she should have been feeling was hidden behind an icy expression.

Suddenly, the superpower particles around her began to whirl violently.

Morrison’s eyes went wide—she was leveling up!

A blinding light of healing energy surrounded Lyra, and when she finally opened her eyes, they gleamed with a deep, restrained power.

"Koros," she said with an edge to her voice, "I think it’s time you reviewed the company’s employee handbook and learned what it means to follow the rules."

She reached down and picked up a sharp black device from the floor.

Koros, who had been brimming with complaints a moment ago, suddenly looked like he’d seen a divine miracle. "This... this is... uh!"

Before Koros could finish, Morrison clamped a hand over his mouth and dragged him out of the room.

As the door swung shut, Morrison caught Lyra’s dark, intense gaze and managed a strained smile. "Boss, you should probably take a bath. I’ll get someone to clean up here and, uh, remind Koros about the rules."

Once the door was closed, Lyra’s focus returned to the Soul Spike—her third one. She stashed it away in her Space Button, then headed to the washroom.

By the time she emerged, Morrison had overseen the cleaning crew, ensuring every trace of blood was gone.

Lyra was impressed by Morrison’s efficiency.

"Now, what’s the problem?" she asked, settling back at her desk as if nothing unusual had happened. Her cold stare bore into Koros, who was now nervously clutching his welding gun.

"Um, I really don’t want to go to Wyrmtrace to start a new project. Can Sean go instead? I’m not great at managing people," Koros muttered, his earlier fury replaced with discomfort.

"You’re all going. Morrison will go too."

Both men were stunned into silence.

Lyra tapped her desk, snapping them back to reality. "Koros, do you have any idea how many new mineral materials have been discovered on Wyrmtrace?"

Minerals!

Koros’s eyes lit up with excitement. "Uh, on second thought, I can handle it myself. No need to drag Sean into this." He rubbed his hands together, already imagining the possibilities.

"But didn’t you say you’re not good at managing people?"

Koros instantly regretted his earlier words.

Lyra, tired of the back and forth, decided to cut to the chase.

Since they were all in this together, she didn’t hold back. She laid out the deal she had struck with the queen bee. "I secured a ship with trade route rights from the Mendez. Your job, Koros, is to figure out how to make the most of these resources."

"This is key to the factory’s growth over the next decade, so it’s essential. Morrison, I want you to oversee everything personally. Just leave someone reliable here to handle things while you’re gone."

She had inside information from the military, and after laying out her plan, both men were left in awe.

Once the shock wore off, Morrison pointed out the main issue. "But boss, we can’t handle that many resources."

The team was still in its early stages, with only a handful of capable people. Expanding too quickly could lead to internal chaos.

"You only need to secure the best resources. I have partners lined up to handle the rest. I’ll connect them with you when the time comes."

Koros’s complaints vanished in an instant, replaced by a surge of motivation. He eagerly began gathering all the equipment and instruments he would need for the trip.

The prospect of having access to so many new materials excited him to no end. With those, he could build an impressive number of mecha. And the lack of strict oversight on Wyrmtrace meant he might even get the chance to create something truly groundbreaking in secret.

However, as soon as Koros left the room, Lyra turned to Morrison with a serious look. "Keep a close watch on Koros. Don’t let him actually build a mecha. It would stir up more trouble than we can handle."

"Understood. I’ll take care of it right away," Morrison replied without hesitation.

He wasn’t bothered at all about being sent to help with the Wyrmtrace project. In fact, he felt a rush of excitement. He knew that if he could successfully manage the situation on Wyrmtrace, it would bring him one step closer to becoming Lyra’s second-in-command—a position he had long aspired to.

Once alone in her office, Lyra wasted no time and immediately reached out to Snakehead.

The man appeared on the other end of the call, looking groggy and annoyed, with a sleep cap perched on his head. "Glad you miss me, ma’am, but do you have any idea what time it is on Voidstar No.2?"

"Wyrmtrace development. Are you in or not?" Lyra cut to the chase, her tone sharp and businesslike.

The mention of Wyrmtrace jolted Snakehead awake. He snapped to attention, sitting up straight as if all traces of sleep had vanished. "I’m in!" he responded, his irritation completely forgotten.

 

Chapter 110: Concerns

Snakehead had been buzzing with excitement since Lyra’s call. He was so pumped that he barely got any sleep that night.

Once the details were hammered out, he didn’t waste time. Before the sun even rose, he was on the phone with Todd, laying out the whole Wyrmtrace plan.

Even Todd, who always prided himself on being in the know, couldn’t hide his own excitement.

"Hahaha, who would’ve thought her going off to the military academy would work in our favor like this?" Snakehead chuckled, sipping on his hot milk. "Planet development? Guys like us? Never thought we’d get a piece of that pie."

The truth was, they’d never been popular with the officials or military, mostly because their business partners tended to be, well, less than savory—fugitives, space pirates, the usual crowd.

This new opportunity felt like they’d gone from begging on the streets to dining at a five-star restaurant.

Still, they had to keep their identities under wraps and make sure to check in with the folks on Planet Nagano to keep the authorities off their backs.

That’s where Todd came in—he’d have to meet with Morrison there.

Even though Wyrmtrace wasn’t officially under their control, the place was under tight surveillance. With satellites monitoring the nearby space, landing from anywhere else was a no-go.

Plus, finding such a small planet in a galaxy filled with wormholes and asteroid fields without a proper star map? Good luck with that.

...

Just as Snakehead was about to leave for Planet Nagano, he caught wind that the Caesars were headed there too.

"Why are you going?" Snakehead shot a look at Caesara, who was busy prepping her team. He had a bad feeling about this.

"Did you forget I’m a mercenary?" Caesara grinned. "Got hired for a job, so we’re going." Her new look was bold—one side of her head still shaved, showing off a scar, while the other side had long braids.

Snakehead rolled his eyes. ’We better not be after the same resources.’

Caesara laughed, reading his mind. "Seriously, you think everyone’s chasing after those dumb minerals? I couldn’t care less about business. I’m here to fight. Maybe I’ll even find some cool plants along the way."

That had been the deal from the start. Caesara wasn’t in this for the money. Sure, she worked for a paycheck, but her crew wasn’t at odds with the officials like Snakehead’s. They played it clean, unlike the messier crews out there, so she could move around within the Alliance without much fuss.

Snakehead watched as Caesara’s team and Todd’s group took off. Suddenly feeling uneasy, he grabbed his communicator and dialed Lyra.

She had just wrapped up re-enrolling in school and was sorting out her dorm room when she answered.

"What’s going on?" she asked, not bothering to stop hanging her clothes as she glanced at the screen.

"You tell me! What’s up with Caesara?" Snakehead’s frustration was palpable as he fidgeted, his round frame shaking a little. "Why didn’t you say anything?"

"I just hired some bodyguards. Why’s that any of your concern?" Lyra shrugged, closing her wardrobe and sitting at her desk. "I’ve only got a few tech people. I need more muscle for protection."

"What’s there to worry about?"

"I’m worried about you," Lyra said, finally meeting his gaze. She rested her chin on her hand. "Let’s not kid ourselves. We both know who we are. Mutual trust isn’t exactly our thing."

Her bluntness left Snakehead speechless.

"Oh, and by the way," Lyra added with a sly smile, "I think you’ve got a bit of a problem to handle." She yawned, stretching. "I’m beat."

And just like that, she hung up.

Snakehead clicked his tongue, glaring at the opticomputer as it shut off with a faint sound.

He had tried hinting to Todd the night before to play it smart—after all, Lyra didn’t have any real muscle on her side. Or so he thought.

Now, it was clear she had been one step ahead of him the whole time.

"Tch, getting anything out of her is like pulling teeth."

As he muttered to himself, a commotion broke out at the airport’s entrance.

Blackheart stormed in with his goons, looking absolutely livid.

Snakehead remembered Lyra’s cryptic warning about trouble. Annoyed, he rubbed his bald head and called for airport security. But before he could even blink, Blackheart grabbed him by the collar.

"What the hell are you and Caesara up to? Heading off to Planet Nagano? Is that brat Sis Marv behind this again?"

Snakehead always figured Blackheart survived more because of his muscle than his brain. The guy never learned.

"What’s it to you?" Snakehead shoved him away without hesitation.

By then, airport security had arrived, armed and ready, circling the group. Onlookers backed up, sensing that things were about to get ugly.

"You let her slip through your fingers back then, and now you’re cashing in on it! This was your plan all along, wasn’t it?" Blackheart growled. He knew Lyra was a cash cow, and if Snakehead was sending people to Nagano, there had to be serious profit on the line.

Snakehead was done arguing with this fool. "If you’re so smart, go track her down yourself. Stop hounding me every time something doesn’t go your way!" He turned to leave.

"I’m not done with you!" Blackheart lunged again, but Snakehead was quicker, sending him flying with a swift strike.

Snakehead’s weapon—a bat—morphed into a gleaming blade. He pointed it at Blackheart, who was now coughing up blood on the floor. "Have you forgotten who runs Voidstar? Keep mouthing off, and I’ll chop off those fingers of yours for fun."

Blackheart, struggling to his feet, spat in frustration. "Damn fatso, fine, you win this round! I’ll back off!" He stormed away, shoving aside Liliana, who had come over to help him.

Liliana tossed her hair and shot Snakehead a sweet smile. "Don’t mind Papa, Snakehead. He’s just got a bit of a temper."

Snakehead’s stern expression softened as he looked at her, a sly grin replacing the scowl. "If only your old man were as reasonable as you, Liliana. Life would be much easier."

Liliana smiled lightly before turning to follow her father.

Meanwhile, Lyra couldn’t care less about the latest spat between Voidstar’s two leaders. Her attention was elsewhere, focused on the dreaded physical exam she had the next day.

Since advancing to level six, she hadn’t had a chance to adjust her body properly, meaning she couldn’t push herself too hard. If she did, the consequences would be nasty.

So, she was going to cheat.

Early the next morning, Rajan stood awkwardly outside girls’ dorm building, clearly uncomfortable under the watchful eyes of the future soldiers strolling by.

When he finally spotted Lyra, he rushed toward her, but Zinnia sneakily snuck up from behind.

Lyra sidestepped, and Rajan tumbled right into Zinnia’s arms.

Mandy couldn’t hold back her laughter. "Zinnia, let him go!"

Zinnia, wrinkling her nose, pulled the embarrassed Rajan from her grasp. "I didn’t break him, did I?"

"I-I’m so sorry!" Rajan stammered, his face flushed bright red as he avoided her gaze, bowing repeatedly. "I didn’t see you there! I’m so, so sorry!"

Zinnia, almost the same height as him but taller thanks to her sturdy military boots, bent down and gave him a teasing once-over. "For someone who’s kinda cute, you sure act like a scared little bunny."

The shift in dynamic was so bizarre, even Mandy didn’t know what to say.

Lyra’s cold voice cut through the awkwardness. "Do you have the stuff?"