Ch. 146..150: Interstellar_ Return of the Villain Chapter 146-150

Chapter 146: Old Calvin

Once the reporters focused on the game results and gathered enough material, they finally let the team go.

Back in the lounge, Anton quickly tore off his tie. "This thing is so uncomfortable."

Webber opened his mouth to advise against it, but he stopped short when he saw their chief instructor had already ditched his shirt, now in just a tank top.

He gulped down water and glanced at the excited students. "We return in two days. You can do your own thing, but no trouble."

The tense group cheered, eager to leave, but Webber called out, "We won, so we should celebrate."

He joked with Anton, "Doesn’t the chief instructor owe us a party?"

"Absolutely! I almost forgot!" Anton grabbed his superior as he tried to leave. "You can’t escape; I know a great restaurant nearby."

Lyra didn’t mind and tagged along.

The restaurant was packed, but upon hearing it was an NMA booking, they quickly set up a private room for the group.

Unfortunately, they ran into the EPMA crowd in the lobby.

With their headquarters nearby, unfamiliar faces joined them—probably friends.

The long-time first-place school had just lost to the perennial second, and now they encountered them celebrating.

Tension filled the air as glances were exchanged.

Elsie, the captain, nodded to their captain and led her team away. Thankfully, the lobby was spacious enough to prevent any disputes.

As they passed, a voice from the crowd sneered, "Pfft, without that old woman, could they even win?"

Lyra’s past of being frozen for seven years was no secret online, despite her biological age being twenty.

The jab was clear.

"Hey, that one," someone interjected, "the Alliance rules calculate age by biological physiology. You really don’t know that? Are you even a military student?"

Realizing Lyra’s identity, Elsie felt a pang of sympathy.

Being frozen was like living a false death, and during those years, Lyra had no one there for her. Elsie understood the feelings.

"Well, she’s old no matter what..."

SMACK!

A slap landed out of nowhere on the young man’s face.

Anton grinned slyly. "Talking nonsense in front of me, huh?"

The young man’s face swelled in disbelief. "You’re an instructor, and you hit a student?"

"Bah! You’re not even one of mine, you little brat. Who cares about being a role model? NMA doesn’t play that game!"

The EPMA crowd frowned, and Webber stepped in to mediate. "Alright, calm down. It’s just a kid; a little lesson is enough. Next time, take it up with his instructor."

That didn’t really help.

Andre’s gaze swept over them, his presence turning their anger into shame. "Otherwise, your chief instructor can come find me. I’m leaving."

Lyra, the provoked party, quietly walked behind, feeling detached.

"Lyra," Robin suddenly spoke up.

She turned, raising an eyebrow.

"Grandpa said you’re welcome to visit him anytime," he whispered.

Just then, Kail arrived with the EPMA group and noticed them whispering.

Robin called out to him.

Kail nodded and approached. "What are you guys doing here?"

Robin looked at Lyra, waiting for her reply.

Lyra’s gaze was icy as she warned, "Tell old Calvin to stay away from all my business."

Nothing mattered now, after he ignored her parents’ death.

Robin kept a serious expression and nodded. "I’ll tell Grandpa."

Then he walked away.

Kail felt uncomfortable being excluded and asked, "Sis, does Grandpa want you to go to Calvin’s?"

"What’s it to you?"

Her casual reply nearly crushed him.

Just then, her opticomputer buzzed urgently. It was Debbie.

"Boss, there’s been an incident!"

Lyra’s expression hardened as she rushed to the private room, pushing the door open. "Sir, I have personal business to attend to."

Anton was pouring wine for Andrei and when he looked up, only to find her gone.

Turning back, he saw his superior crush his glass, then quickly smiled. "Isn’t this our NMA style? Let’s drink."

Kail glared at his sister’s back, then gritted his teeth and followed her.

Surprisingly, Lyra didn’t stop him.

The driver sped off to the address she provided, arriving at a regular residential area on Elden Prime.

In confusion, Kail watched as they reached a small villa cordoned off by police, who were removing a body.

"Hello, we’re here to check for superpower residues," Lyra stated, pulling Kail inside.

The police almost asked for a search warrant but halted when they saw Kail’s Skywalkers uniform. Moreover, now they really needed to focus on maintaining order in the chaos.

Inside, there were no signs of a struggle; the blood was concentrated, indicating a clean kill.

Finding no useful clues, Lyra stepped outside and lifted the white sheet—she recognized the face, unaltered.

The doctor who implanted her Soul Spike had been silenced by the Shedd family.

"Who is this guy?" Kail asked, noticing her concern for the deceased.

But Lyra only glanced at him before leaving with Debbie, treating him like air.

Kail clenched his fists and returned to the police to learn about the victim. He had a feeling that the truth about that past might be uncovered here.

Lyra returned straight to the new office, her cold gaze reflecting the young assistant before her. "So, this is the result you gave me."

Debbie shivered, "I failed. I arrived too late; Dr. Brian is dead, and his wife and children are missing."

Compared to the icy pressure from Lyra, the gruesome murder scene had become less frightening.

"Debbie," Lyra called softly.

Debbie straightened up immediately. "Yes."

"Tell Morrison to return as quickly as possible, and then you go back to Planet Nagano," Lyra said, her eyes icy. "Come back to me only after you’ve handled this. You can leave."

This felt like being coldly dismissed, leaving Debbie deeply disappointed.

If she could have resolved the situation on Elden Prime, she might have gained equal power with Morrison, but now she had messed up.

Lyra had provided ample resources and warned her to be careful, yet someone else had acted first and silenced the target.

Chapter 147: Back To The Shedd Family

As the door clicked shut, Lyra leaned against it, arms crossed, forehead pressed to her hands.

Frustration gnawed at her.

Her factory was understaffed, plain and simple.

Debbie, fresh out of school, could handle the business side of things well enough, but she lacked the depth of experience needed to navigate the more complex aspects. And that was where the real trouble lay.

Ansel wasn’t someone you could underestimate. He was no fool like Erin, who had left herself exposed and vulnerable. No, Ansel was sharp. Dangerous. He wouldn’t make the same slip-ups.

The Soul Spikes, a device meant for torturing hardened criminals, could get someone locked up for decades if used carelessly—twenty, maybe fifty years.

That was why she had been silenced.

She needed Dr. Brian to bring the truth to light. It was the only way.

Sure, this tiny lead might not be enough to topple the Shedd family, but it was leverage. And right now, that’s what mattered.

Lyra was also far more interested in getting her hands on any information Brian had about superpower transplantation.

Brian might be dead, but he had left behind a family. Lyra was sure there was something valuable to be found there, especially with his eldest daughter showing promise. She’d inherited more than just his name.

Determined to take care of things herself, Lyra turned to Debbie, laying out her plan in detail.

As Debbie listened, she realized just how off her own strategy had been. Lyra’s decisiveness left her quietly impressed.

By the time they wrapped up their talk, the afternoon sun was already slanting in through the windows. Debbie brought lunch to Lyra, who was about to dig in when her opticomputer buzzed.

"Hello, this is Lyra."

"Lyra, it’s time to come home."

The voice was old, flat, and it stopped her in her tracks. Instinctively, her fingers tightened around the fork, bending it slightly under the pressure.

"Your little rebellion has gone on long enough," Ansel’s voice continued, full of icy control. "Did you really think you could stir up trouble on Elden Prime while I’m still watching you?"

The words carried more than a hint of warning. Lyra knew he was dead serious. Ansel had finished Brian, and there was nothing stopping him from finishing her now.

Debbie, observing from a distance, felt the tension hanging heavy in the air. It was palpable. The look in Lyra’s eyes sent a chill down her spine.

After a beat, Lyra dropped the twisted fork, letting out a cold laugh as she turned her gaze to the window.

"Oh? So now, after seeing what I can do, you’ve remembered I’m still in your little game, huh?"

"Not quite," Ansel sneered. "But it’s always better to keep a dangerous dog on a leash than let it run wild."

The threat was clear. If she pushed back, he’d have her taken out—no hesitation, no mercy.

"By the way, there’s a family gathering tomorrow," he added, voice dripping with indifference. "It’s been a while since you’ve shown your face. Come pay your respects."

With that, the line went dead. Erin, having heard the entire exchange, cautiously stepped forward. "Grandpa, maybe I should handle the arrangements for tomorrow?"

Ansel grunted. "Invite my brother too. No one should be missing."

She hesitated, confused. "Grandpa... that’s not what I meant by ’arrangement’..."

Ansel’s eyes flicked toward her, cold and unreadable. "It’s a family event. No need for outsiders."

His words left Erin uneasy, unable to fully grasp what he was planning.

Meanwhile, a lev zipped through the city’s bustling streets, turning onto a quieter, tree-lined road before pulling up at the gates of the military district.

One of the guards, checking the passengers, blinked in surprise when he saw the young woman in the back seat. A grin spread across his face.

"Aren’t you Lyra from NMA? My daughter’s a huge fan! She’s planning to apply next year!"

"Can we go in now?" Lyra’s voice cut through the air, colder than the warm persona she once projected on screen.

The guard, who had been gearing up for some casual chit-chat, quickly shut his mouth, sensing the chill in her tone.

"Y-yes, of course," he stuttered, watching as the lev-car slid forward.

Turning to his colleague, he whispered, "She’s from the Shedd family. That same look in her eyes... it’s terrifying."

The older guard, with streaks of gray in his hair, let out a nostalgic sigh. "You wouldn’t believe it, but she used to be such a sweet kid. Back in middle school, she’d say hello to us every single day."

"Really? You’ve been here that long, huh?" The younger guard’s eyes widened slightly, surprised by the revelation.

Despite the steady stream of levs passing through, the military district always carried an air of solemnity. The buzz of the outside world felt distant to Lyra, as though muffled by the heavy, serious atmosphere within its borders.

The lev eventually came to a halt in front of a pristine white villa.

Twelve years might’ve passed, but nothing seemed to have changed here—not even the towering tree by the entrance, whose oppressive presence still loomed large.

The grand iron gate remained as imposing as ever, silently watching over the property.

Lyra had mulled over this decision for a long time before finally taking the plunge. The trail with Brian had gone cold, but there was still a connection to be explored within the Shedd family.

After all, the Spellbinder giving her the curse, that was someone she had once been close to.

Everything was falling into place.

Behind her, Mr. Frei followed closely, his posture stiffening under the weight of the villa’s foreboding atmosphere. His voice was low as he muttered, "Miss Lyra, if things get rough in there, I’ll need double my usual fee."

The tension in the air was unmistakable, and his instincts were screaming at him that danger lurked just beyond those gates.

The heavy iron gate creaked open with an eerie groan. Lyra’s eyes narrowed as she gazed at it, feeling like she was staring into the jaws of a beast.

Without turning her head, she gave a small, faint smile. "Of course. Just get me out if things go south. Nothing more."

Mr. Frei gave a curt nod, adjusting his crisp suit as if preparing for battle.

With a steady breath, Lyra led the way through the gates. The moment they crossed the threshold, a gust of wind came barreling toward them, only to be stopped in its tracks by a glowing light shield that shimmered into existence.

"Lyra! What did you do to Jorath?"

A woman came storming out of the villa, her face twisted with fury as she summoned two sharp wind blades, aiming them straight at Lyra.

Unfazed, Lyra’s expression hardened. With a swift movement, she waved her hand, deflecting the attack as if it were nothing.

The wind blades scattered harmlessly to the sides.

With a single flick of her finger, Lyra summoned several glowing dots that darted toward her attacker.

The woman’s confidence quickly faltered as she realized the lights were tracking her every move. Fear crept into her features as the glowing orbs closed in.

Suddenly, shards of ice came shooting out from the villa, colliding with the light dots and dissolving them into wisps of white mist.

Several of the orbs lost momentum and struck the tree behind Lyra, leaving faint marks before fading away.

Erin, standing in the doorway, watched in shock. The last time they had faced off on Wyrmtrace, their abilities had been nearly on par. But in just a few short months, Lyra had far outstripped her in power.

The realization sent a chill down Erin’s spine.

"Lyra, you’ve barely set foot in this house and you’re already attacking people! Have you lost your mind?" Erin shouted, her voice a shaky mixture of fear and accusation.

Lyra’s cold eyes swept over Erin and Malona, the woman who had attacked her.

"What you’re plotting, I am doing the same," Lyra replied, her voice devoid of any warmth. "Don’t pretend you don’t know what’s going on."

Malona, still reeling from the failed attack, scrambled to her feet. Her eyes were blazing with hatred. "Did you kill Jorath? Was it you?"

The Shedd family had always struggled with a dwindling number of strong members. Unlike the other powerful military families, they lacked a steady influx of new blood.

Patrick’s side of the family had always been overshadowed by Ansel’s in terms of talent. Jorath had been an exception—one of the few promising young members of the Shedd family. But then, he had died on Planet Nagano.

And when they found out that Lyra had been there at the time of his death, it seemed almost certain—Jorath’s blood was on her hands.

"The ones who killed him have already been executed by lethal injection," Lyra stated coldly, not wasting any more breath on the Shedd family drama.

Without so much as a glance back, she turned and made her way toward the main entrance of the villa.

A maid hurried over, offering her a pair of clean slippers.

Lyra barely registered the gesture. Instead, she stepped right onto the gleaming floor with her dusty shoes still on.

The polished surface reflected the disdain etched into her face—every step mirroring the deep-seated disgust she held for this place and the people in it.

A sharp, derisive snort cut through the air, followed by a surge of psychokinetic force that made the room feel smaller, heavier.

Lyra paused, turning her head slightly to see Patrick, slumped in a chair on the far side of the room. His dark eyes narrowed as his power rolled off him in waves, his expression tense and brooding.

Lyra gave a subtle nod to Mr. Frei, her silent signal.

Instantly, he pushed back with his own power, meeting Patrick’s force head-on.

The clash between them was brief but brutal.

Patrick, despite his level-seven psychic abilities, paled as the pressure mounted, his body sinking deeper into the cushions as he struggled to maintain control.

Before Mr. Frei could push harder, a heavier, more oppressive wave of psychokinesis swept through the room, stopping both men in their tracks. It was like the air had thickened, pressing down with the weight of absolute authority.

"Lyra, why have you returned... with a stranger?"

Chapter 148: Family Drama

Ansel, an old man who had survived more than a century, was as dangerous as he was cunning.

His schemes were like a weight pressing down on Lyra, and his immense psychic power added to the suffocating atmosphere in the room.

Lyra’s spine stiffened for a moment under the pressure, but she quickly recovered, a sarcastic smile tugging at her lips. "After nearly dying in our own house, I suppose it’s only natural I’d keep a bodyguard close."

Ansel, leaning on his cane, chuckled softly, his tone that of a doting elder. "You were always a difficult child, Lyra."

To anyone else, his voice might have sounded warm, almost affectionate, but Lyra knew better. This was the same man who had once tricked her into drinking the Dispersal Agents, the poison that had scattered her powers and shattered her future.

Standing beside Ansel, Kail suddenly let go of Ansel’s arm as if the contact had scalded him.

He had seen the raw hatred in Lyra’s eyes, and it unsettled him. His hand dropped to his side, fingers curling into a tight fist as he recalled what he’d discovered recently—how Dr. Brian, once the head of the Legion Skywalkers’ medical team, had mysteriously disappeared twelve years ago.

Kail knew now that the Shedd family had done something to Lyra back then.

The revelation gnawed at him.

Lyra, her face still frozen in a mask of indifference, cut through the tension with her words. "The difference between us is that I’ve learned my lesson. You, on the other hand, seem to have learned nothing."

On the surface, it could’ve passed for casual conversation, but the cold gleam in their eyes betrayed the deep hostility simmering beneath.

Patrick, meanwhile, had practically collapsed onto the couch, his earlier psychic battle with Mr. Frei leaving him dazed and unnoticed by the others.

From the side hallway, several more figures emerged—men and women of the Shedd family, each holding key military positions. Then came two elderly figures, their snow-white hair catching the light as they entered the room.

The sight of them made even Mr. Frei stiffen, his normally calm demeanor faltering for a brief moment.

These were the Shedd seniors—legends of the family who had long since stepped back from public life.

Lyra glanced at Mr. Frei, who subtly tugged at the lapel of his jacket, a quiet signal to let her know he could still extract her if needed.

Only then did Lyra allow herself to exhale softly. She had taken a gamble coming back here, but never one that would risk her life without a way out.

All eyes in the room were on her now, especially the two elders. They didn’t bother to hide the mixed emotions in their gazes.

Once, Lyra had been the family’s rising star, a prodigy whose talents had placed her on equal footing with the admiral’s son. But now, after all the betrayal and abandonment, the only thing that connected her to the Shedd family was deep-seated enmity.

Despite their curiosity, no one had ever figured out why Ansel had acted so ruthlessly toward Lyra all those years ago.

The mystery lingered, but no one dared ask.

Ansel, reclaiming his place as the family head, broke the silence. "Now that everyone’s here, let’s some food."

Lyra’s eyes scanned the room, her gaze sharp. "I don’t see Frenna anywhere."

The name hung in the air like a challenge.

Frenna—the aunt who had cursed Lyra and played a role in her downfall.

The way Lyra spoke her aunt’s name, with no respect, made the two elders frown in disapproval. But Ansel, as always, knew exactly what Lyra was after. His cold stare met hers. "You won’t be seeing your aunt for some time."

The curse Frenna had placed on her—one that choked her voice and kept the truth locked away—was still very much intact. The Shedds had no intention of letting her find a way to break it.

Lyra’s lip curled slightly in contempt. "Then there’s no reason to stay for dinner." She turned on her heel, ready to leave the house and everything in it behind.

But before she could take another step, Ansel’s voice, sharp and calculating, echoed after her. "Aren’t you curious about what your mother left for you?"

The question stopped her in her tracks.

Back then, her mother, Seren, had left more than just money behind. There were pieces of her legacy, secrets, things that might clear her parents’ names.

Lyra had spent years searching for answers, and Ansel knew this better than anyone. It was the one card he still had to play.

Ansel’s eyes gleamed, knowing he’d hit a nerve. He continued, his voice low and authoritative. "Your mother left behind something valuable—something you’ve been searching for. And now, you might actually get it."

Lyra slowly turned, her eyes narrowing. "So, the great Vice Admiral Shedd has finally grown a conscience? Or is this just another one of your games?"

Her words hung heavy in the air, the room thick with tension. Everyone knew Lyra wasn’t leaving now, not until she got what she came for.

Kail felt as though the ground had fallen away beneath him. His mind reeled, the weight of Lyra’s words crashing over him like a tidal wave.

Years ago, he had been the one to hand over their mother’s bank account password, believing—naively—that the money would be used to help Lyra recover from her injuries. But she hadn’t touched a cent. And then she vanished, leaving nothing behind but confusion and silence.

Lyra had been only fifteen at the time, gravely wounded and vulnerable. ’How did she even survived after that?’ Kail thought to himself.

The realization came too late. His voice cracked, breaking through the heavy tension in the room. "Grandpa, you promised me! You said you’d use the money to help Lyra get better!"

But neither Ansel nor Lyra paid him any mind. Both cast him nothing more than fleeting glances before ignoring his outburst entirely. His words echoed uselessly in the vast hall, leaving him feeling like a fool.

"The money went into Kail’s training," Ansel replied smoothly, his tone calm, as though the answer was obvious. "There were other things left behind, though."

Kail staggered, the words hitting him even harder than before. He had been tricked—he knew that now. The realization was like a punch to the gut, knocking the wind out of him.

Lyra’s lips twisted into a cruel smile. "And what, exactly, do you mean by that?" she asked, her voice sharp. "And why did you change the password, Grandpa? After I was injured, I had nothing. No money, no family. I was left bleeding and penniless in the streets—only to be trafficked to Voidstar No. 2."

Her words struck like a whip. Could anyone believe such a story? That Lyra Shedd, once the prized daughter of the Shedd family, had ended up being trafficked after nearly dying? The sheer horror of it silenced the room.

Her eyes flicked toward Kail, and the look in them sent a shiver down his spine. He couldn’t understand it—what had happened back then? Why had their grandfather treated her like this?

Maids continued to bring out dishes, their movements efficient and deliberate, but the tension in the air was palpable.

The entire room seemed frozen in disbelief, the weight of Lyra’s accusation hanging over everything like a storm cloud.

How could someone with such promise have suffered so terribly?

Ansel remained unfazed, his thoughts drifting briefly to the past, to when she had escaped his control years ago.

His voice, cold and condescending, finally broke the silence. "If you behave yourself, I will return what is yours."

It was as if he were speaking to a child, someone he could manipulate at will.

Lyra’s head tilted slightly, her smile dripping with mockery. "I was nearly dead, and you took everything from me," she said, her tone growing frostier by the second. "Now you want to give it back? Even you can’t believe that nonsense."

Her voice sharpened as she continued, "But according to the Alliance’s inheritance laws, I’m of age now. Those assets legally belong to me. Why not just hand them over now? It’d save me the trouble of taking you to the military courts."

Ansel’s face darkened as he realized she wasn’t bluffing. Lyra’s smile only grew wider, feeding off his discomfort. "What’s wrong, Vice Admiral Shedd? Do you disagree?"

"I’ve already said..." Ansel began, but he hesitated, his eyes narrowing. He knew better than to think Lyra was speaking without a plan. She was always calculating, always one step ahead. The realization made him wary.

At that moment, the butler hurried into the room, breaking all protocol as he leaned down to whisper something in Ansel’s ear.

Immediately, the old man’s grip on his cane tightened, the tension rippling through his body.

His cold, calculating gaze fixed on Lyra, and for a brief second, murderous intent flickered across his face. But it vanished just as quickly, replaced by a forced smile of resignation.

"My dear child," Ansel said, stroking the polished handle of his cane, his voice now dripping with false sincerity. "Do you really believe I would covet what rightfully belongs to you? You must understand, your parents were involved in... serious matters. Their assets needed thorough examination. At the time, you were still underage, and someone had to take responsibility."

He sighed, his tone tinged with fake regret. "In the end, I suppose it’s my fault. I failed your father, and I failed you."

Had he figured out her intentions? If so, Lyra didn’t seem bothered in the least. She was far from discouraged. "No need to dwell on the past, Grandpa," she replied smoothly. "I’ve suffered enough. If you give me back what’s mine and let me finish my education without interference, I won’t ask for anything more."

Ansel knew this was no empty request. The look in her eyes made it clear—this was her final offer. She would either reclaim her inheritance peacefully, or she would tear everything down to get it.

Erin, standing off to the side, clenched her fists so hard it seemed like her knuckles might crack. Her face twisted in fury as she shouted, "You make so much money already, Lyra! How hard can it be to pay for college on your own!?"

"Erin!" Ansel’s sharp rebuke cut through the room like a whip, his eyes narrowing with icy authority. "Those things belong to her, not you. Keep your mouth shut."

His words hit Erin like a slap, and she flinched under the weight of his gaze. For the life of her, she couldn’t understand why Ansel’s attitude had changed so drastically.

Ansel had always been cold, calculating, but this? Defending Lyra?

Lyra, watching it all with cold detachment, pulled out her opticomputer with an air of finality. "Then let’s complete the transfer right now."

Her voice was calm, businesslike. It was clear she had come prepared for this moment.

Ansel, who prided himself on never being caught off guard, took a beat longer than usual to respond.

The tension in the room thickened as he tried to maintain his composure, the faintest crack of irritation visible in his eyes before he regained control.

"Greg," he commanded, his tone tight with forced calm, "handle the transfer to her."

The butler stepped forward, his hands trembling slightly as he took the opticomputer from Lyra.

Meanwhile, the internet was already in an uproar.

Chapter 149: Dirty Laundries

Breaking News: The Shedd Family’s Lyra Was Trafficked to Voidstar!

Lyra’s name, alongside the word "trafficked," shot up the trending charts. Everyone was stunned—no amount of disbelief could capture the shock they felt.

"Wow, I was just watching her live stream, thinking it was a treat, and now this huge news breaks! My heart goes out to her!"

"Seriously? Her grandfather stole her inheritance and just let her get Shanghaied? Vice Admiral Shedd, what’s wrong with you?"

"Don’t blame Vice Admiral Shedd! He said those assets need to be reviewed. Plus, Lyra’s parents were traitors!"

"Why should she suffer for her parents’ mistakes? And let’s not forget, she was hurt and taken away. She’s the Vice Admiral’s granddaughter—how can you believe there’s nothing suspicious?"

In just two minutes, the news exploded, but Lyra’s live stream went on without a hitch.

The butler, Greg, whispered to Ansel, "She used the outer star network to stream. We can’t shut it down."

In the military district, there was a high-tech signal monitoring system to protect officials’ privacy. No one could stream or film without permission.

No one knew how Lyra managed to live-stream the moment she arrived.

Ansel quickly decided, "Use my privileges to contact Lieutenant Commander Whyte from Wyrmtrace."

Meanwhile, Lyra had finished reviewing the inheritance list. These properties belonged to her mother and were untouched by the military tribunal due to their clear origin.

Now, almost everything valuable was gone. With a cold smile, she addressed the Shedd family, "My mother’s cash and real estate were worth nearly two billion. Now, all that’s left is some unsellable stuff." She stepped closer to the dining table. "These porcelain and silver items must have cost a fortune, right?"

Kail felt a shock—so much money!

All taken by his grandfather.

Viewers watching the stream felt their beliefs shatter.

"What a dramatic family saga!"

"All this wealth wasted by the Shedd family? Didn’t someone say Ansel was just a temporary guardian?"

"Those porcelain items are luxury goods, bought with her mother’s inheritance, while the rightful heir was trafficked to Voidstar?"

"Didn’t the Shedd family claim Lyra was dead back then? They never even tried to find her!"

Realizing her secrets were close to being revealed, Lyra decided to make a hasty exit. "I have things to do. I’m leaving now."

Ansel wasn’t ready to let her go. "We agreed on a family dinner. The food is ready. You can’t just walk out!"

In an instant, a man blocked the door, trying to avoid the camera.

But the live stream kept rolling. As long as Lyra remained in view, they couldn’t act easily.

...

On Wyrmtrace Star, Cohen Arrives at Lyra’s Caravan Base.

Cohen strode into Lyra’s caravan base, but Sean stopped him at the entrance.

"Lieutenant Commander Whyte, what brings you here?" Sean asked. Now that Morrison was gone, he felt a bit intimidated as a tech specialist without superpowers.

Cohen scanned the hall. "Where’s Koros?"

"He’s busy."

"Busy with the live stream?" Cohen’s expression hardened. "Haven’t you learned from the last incident with the Phoenix? You’re using Wyrmtrace’s network to communicate with the outside again!"

Sean smirked confidently, "No worries. Koros is using Voidstar No.2’s satellite, so Wyrmtrace’s info won’t leak. Our satellite monitoring won’t allow outside communication."

But Cohen wasn’t convinced. "You’re causing me trouble!"

He jumped when he received a message from Ansel.

"Lieutenant Commander, you’re mistaken! We answer to our boss, and this is a private matter with the Shedd family—why interfere?" Sean pulled up the live stream. "If you shut it down now, you’d endanger our boss."

To those unaware, the stream might seem minor, but Cohen grasped the situation’s seriousness. Ansel wouldn’t let whoever striking at the Shedd family slip away easily.

After a moment of contemplation, Cohen narrowed his eyes. "Are you sure it won’t leak Wyrmtrace’s information?"

"I swear on my life," Sean replied.

Cohen raised an eyebrow, then turned and walked away.

...

The Shedd family was wrapped in tension. Away from the live stream, Lyra stood surrounded by relatives.

Greg leaned closer to Ansel, whispering something that deepened Ansel’s frown. He then turned to Lyra with a smile. "I didn’t realize you were so close to that young Lieutenant Commander."

Lyra understood Ansel’s reference to Cohen. "It’s mutually beneficial," she replied, glancing at Mr. Frei.

Time to make their move.

Mr. Frei nodded almost imperceptibly.

Suddenly, a green light shimmered like a star, prompting Ansel and the others to instinctively shut their eyes.

Mr. Frei quickly enveloped Lyra in a spatial field. With everyone at level eight, this was their only chance to escape.

But just as they reached the door, the space around them froze, followed by a deafening crack from above.

Mr. Frei reacted fast, redirecting the lightning, but thick thunderclouds cut the signal—the live stream abruptly ended!

On Wyrmtrace, Koros stopped typing, rubbing his head. "There’s nothing we can do now. Good luck, boss."

Viewers were met with a pitch-black screen as chaos erupted in the comments.

Mr. Frei faced an armed Ansel, quickly flanked by the two seniors.

Lyra split her Schedar weapon with her fingers, pushing back incoming attacks.

Suddenly, Patrick charged from the front. He was illuminated by lightning, his face twisted like a barking dog.

Just as he lunged, a sharp blade pierced through his back, freezing him in place.

Blood splattered across Lyra’s face, but she didn’t flinch.

"Grandpa—"

Malona cried out, rushing to save him, but a delicate hand gripped Patrick’s neck first.

"Lyra, how dare you!"

She met Ansel’s gaze, his facade dropped, revealing murderous intent. With a cold smile, she replied, "Why wouldn’t I dare?"

Holding up the bleeding hostage, she shouted, "Everyone, step back!"

"You think you can create chaos here and walk away? The patrol will be here soon," Ansel threatened, invoking the law.

But Lyra was unfazed. "I dare to face a military tribunal; but do you?"

Feeling bold, she sensed she had an ace up her sleeve!

Seeing Ansel’s twisted expression, she smiled smugly. "The Shedd family can’t handle another investigation."

Years ago, the Shedd family had been implicated in the Tyro couple’s crimes but had escaped serious consequences.

Lyra suspected Ansel sacrificed her family to protect their reputation, and the old man had never considered proving his son’s innocence.

After a decade of struggle, the Shedd family had finally regained their footing, but sending Lyra to a military tribunal would bring the wrath of millions from the Alliance—too risky for Ansel.

As she noted his dark expression, Lyra signaled to Mr. Frei, who cautiously scanned the family before activating the spatial field again.

Lyra moved away without a hint of hesitation.

Once she was at a safe distance, she turned her gaze to Patrick. He showed fear at first and struggled against Mr. Frei’s spatial control.

"You don’t deserve to spill the Shedd family’s blood! Let me go!" he shouted angrily, realizing that killing a military officer was no small matter—and that Lyra wouldn’t dare to kill him.

"Oh, you think I won’t?" In the dim alley, Patrick recoiled at the coldness in her eyes, just before she pushed his head into a puddle.

"See hello to your stupid grandson in hell."

Patrick’s eyes widened. "You killed Jorath, you damn ungrateful wretch!"

Lyra retrieved a black mechanical spike from her Space Button, turning Patrick’s fury to sheer terror. "How do you have that?" he asked.

"I was going to return it to Ansel, but since he’s too old to handle it, you can take one for him." She had a brilliant plan; if she could escape, she wouldn’t fear his revenge in military court.

The green light enveloped the Soul Spike and plunged it into Patrick’s chest.

That hit the mark. His scream was music to Lyra’s ears, making her squint with delight.

Mr. Frei, though experienced, felt a chill—wasn’t the Soul Spike military technology?

But as a bodyguard, he kept his thoughts in check. When Lyra ordered him to throw Patrick back, he showed no sign of surprise.

With a thud, Patrick fell to the ground like discarded trash.

"Grandpa!" Malona rushed to his side. "Get the healing device!"

Though they treated his external wounds, Patrick’s superpower faded, causing him to age rapidly.

"What’s happening? Grandpa!" Malona knelt before Ansel, her eyes red with worry. "Call a doctor!"

Erin pulled her up, urging calm. "We can’t let Lyra get away with attacking a military officer!" She began to contact a doctor, but Ansel raised a hand to stop her. "No need for that."

He approached his brother, a complex look in his eyes. "Did she pull that out?"

Patrick nodded, anger swirling within him. "I... I didn’t know she could do that."

Erin was stunned. The Soul Spike was military tech, each one numbered with strict usage regulations.

Ansel had kept his because of his position, but now it was inside Patrick due to Lyra’s actions.

Ansel panicked. ’What if she has more? If one gets out, it’ll be catastrophic. No wonder she was so confident I won’t go to military court.’

"Grandpa Ansel? What do you mean?" Malona asked, disbelief etched on her face. "My grandpa was hurt because of you!"

Ansel’s cold glare made her step back.

"It was also because of him that Lyra escaped."

He turned to leave but was blocked at the door.

"Grandpa, what’s going on? Why are you treating Lyra like this? I need an explaination!" Kail shouted at Ansel, fury boiling over.

SMACK! Ansel slapped him across the face.

"What makes you think you can talk to me like that?" Ansel replied coolly, adjusting his ring. "Don’t forget who gave you everything, and don’t forget you’re a Shedd."

As he turned to enter the house, Kail’s voice followed, laced with anger. "So, you never intended to save her; you abandoned her on purpose!"

The memory of Lyra leaving all those years ago hit him hard. Kail squeezed his eyes shut and dashed out.

Chapter 150: Another Cooperation

Lyra announced her intention to leave the team, emphasizing her need to manage her inheritance and return to Planet Nagano.

"If I were you, I wouldn’t choose to leave the team now," Andre advised, leaning back in his chair with a scrutinizing gaze. "Instead, use the school’s protection to leave Elden Prime."

Webber chimed in, crossing his arms. "He is right. No matter how skilled you are, you can’t take on the Shedd family alone. Stick with us, and you’ll benefit from the admiral’s influence."

"I’m fine. I know what I’m doing," she replied calmly, her determination unwavering.

She knew leaving the team could give Ansel an upper hand, but she had her own strategy—her Soul Spike, which would counter the curse and provide her with evidence.

Seeing her confidence, Andre nodded. "Then do what you think is best." He recognized her resilience.

Webber opened his mouth to argue further but was pulled aside by Anton. "Come on, she’s not your daughter. You don’t need to play the worried parent."

The next morning, Andre departed with a group of students while Lyra stayed at the factory, hiring staff and securing contracts. She had become a living advertisement for their healing devices, which were flying off the shelves.

However, trouble arrived swiftly.

"Boss, the business bureau said our paperwork is inadequate and is demanding we shut down the factory immediately," Debbie rushed into the office, her voice tinged with panic.

As a junior assistant, she felt powerless in the face of such news.

Lyra wasn’t surprised. The Shedd family had deep roots in the region, and many officials were loyal to them.

"You handle it for now," she said, grabbing her opticomputer to contact someone.

When Cohen saw her name on the screen, tension tightened in his scalp. "What now?"

"What else? I’m here to thank you," she replied coolly, her tone sharp.

Cohen picked up on the underlying malice. "Thank me for what?"

"Didn’t Ansel contact you after my live stream a few days ago?" Lyra leaned closer to the screen. "I appreciate you standing by my side, so I wanted to show my gratitude."

Cohen narrowed his eyes, sensing something was off. "What do you want in return?"

She offered a slight smile. "I’m acquiring land on Elden Prime to build a new factory, and I plan to put it in your name. I’ll handle the operations and funding, and you’ll collect 60% of the profits—40% for me."

"Sounds tempting," Cohen said, his smile lacking warmth as he tapped his pen against the desk. "But if it fails, you’ll drag me down with you. Nice job, Lyra. Other people know to switch sheep when they fleece them. Why do you keep targeting me?"

He had to restrain himself from shouting, a testament to how frustrated he was.

Lyra wasn’t fazed by his suspicions. "Who else would I go to? You’re the one with deep pockets and connections."

Cohen chuckled despite himself, perhaps realizing he had been used too often.

"Do you know how many eyes are on me on Elden Prime? I can’t agree to this," he replied, seriousness returning to his tone.

Though being the admiral’s son came with privileges, it also brought heavy responsibilities.

Planet Nagano was a no-go zone, belonging to the Whyte family, and no one dared cross them. But Elden Prime was a tangled web, and a single misstep could lead to dire consequences. With the Shedd family in the mix, he had to tread very carefully.

"Lyra," Cohen said firmly, "as long as we don’t cross any lines, I’m happy to cooperate for mutual benefit. But with your conflict against the Shedd family, I can’t get involved. This could jeopardize the stability of the military."

The Alliance was already deep in disputes with the Empire, and any misstep could lead to serious consequences. That’s why, when Ansel had asked Cohen to stop Lyra’s live stream, he had chosen to ignore it after confirming that no sensitive information was leaked.

He couldn’t shut it down for Ansel, and nor could he do this for Lyra, either.

The admiral’s faction couldn’t afford any misuse of public authority; it was like a tree that couldn’t be hollowed out. If it were, the whole thing would collapse.

Lyra studied his unwavering expression and sighed. "Could you at least get me an official power map of Elden Prime? The pressure is coming from the head of the business bureau there."

That person was beyond her reach, especially given her current standing, and she needed a way to navigate the intricate web of connections.

Cohen didn’t soften at her concession; instead, he scoffed. "You’re quite the negotiator."

She had asked for something he wouldn’t agree to, and when he refused, she pivoted to a request he could easily fulfill, or at least seemingly so. Lyra was skilled at this game.

"This should be simple for you," she pressed, narrowing her eyes.

Just then, a notification pinged on her opticomputer, revealing a document ready for review. She opened it and found the information she needed.

Before she could celebrate, Cohen added, "And just to remind you, the information includes details about Simon East, who suffers from a severe genetic disease."

With that, he ended the call.

Lyra skimmed the document, quickly grasping its significance. But figuring out how to leverage this connection would be another challenge.

After a moment of thought, she called Debbie to arrange a few things.

On Planet Nagano...

Jorathon Mendez, aiming to intimidate certain parties, had regained control of the board by leveraging the Wyrmtrace development.

The media was quick to notice. During an interview that day, the host asked, "A few years ago, we heard that you suffered from severe brain paralysis. Now, it seems you’ve recovered. What new medical technology did you use?"

Jorathon’s smile faltered momentarily. He had publicly stated that his condition was under control—partly due to a promise to Lyra to keep it confidential and partly because he didn’t want any additional trouble. But now, someone seemed to be prying into his affairs.

"Well, if there was new technology, it would have made big news for the Alliance. I’ve just been lucky; my condition has stabilized," he replied dismissively.

But this vague response didn’t stop the online chatter.

"Are you kidding? Brain paralysis has a 100% mortality rate. Do you think you’re the Chosen One? Just lucky?"

"This old man is hiding something. If there’s a treatment, he should just say it."

"Rumor has it that a healer cured Jorathon. That healer is quite special, but you can guess the rest."

This ’rumor’ skyrocketed to the top of trending topics.

Alon frowned as he monitored the discussions from Wyrmtrace and called Jorathon. "Something’s off. Someone is manipulating public opinion from behind the scenes."

Jorathon had caught on. "Who else knows about Lyra’s healing abilities besides us?"

The answer was clear: only Lyra herself knew.

Alon frowned. "What does she want?"

’What do I want?’ As Lyra looked at the invitation in front of her, a satisfied smile spread across her face.

She had a plan, and the pieces were falling into place.