Ch. 236..240: Interstellar_ Return of the Villain Chapter 236-240
Chapter 236: Trusting None (2)
At the Calvin family’s castle in Central City, the tension hung thick in the air.
"Sir, you need to leave now!" The butler, Albert, bowed deeply as he urged Benedict.
The old man stood on the terrace of the ancient castle, his left hand gripping a cane and his right clutching an ornate signet ring. "Albert, how long has it been since our ancestors escaped there?"
"It’s been exactly four hundred and fifty years this year."
"Four hundred and fifty years." His gaze darkened as it fell on the distant mountains and waters of Elden Prime. "I would be the twenty-first of Varmoket if we had stayed with the Empire."
"Yes, sir." Albert’s eyes flickered anxiously toward the approaching Lev from the military. "Sir..."
"Call me ’Your Majesty!’" Benedict interrupted, his gaunt face twisting with anger as he glared at the incoming Lev.
With a swift motion, he produced a specialized sonic-blast gun, aiming it at the convoy surrounding the estate. He pulled the trigger, and the bullet exploded near the vehicles, the sound amplified by his superpower.
The shockwave hit like tons of explosives, shattering the Lev who hadn’t managed to defend themselves in time.
Benedict fired again, but this shot failed. A shimmering green energy shield enveloped the vehicles, forming an impenetrable bubble.
The door of one Lev swung open, and a dazzling light shield formed a staircase as a ghostly woman swiftly descended toward him.
It was Lyra.
From the rose bushes, laser guns emerged, locking onto her aerial figure as they unleashed a furious barrage of fire.
On the ground, cutting rays burst forth, weaving a net aimed at ensnaring her. The servants transformed into mercenaries, ready for the ambush.
But with Robin present, the Calvin family’s ace in the hole became transparent. The young man had already conjured storm clouds overhead.
Silver serpents of electricity crackled across the castle, disabling all equipment and halting the mercenaries in their tracks.
Lyra dove like a hawk toward the terrace of the estate.
Benedict fired three shots at her, but the explosive soundwaves were effortlessly blocked by her light shield.
With a soft thud, Lyra landed on the railing, clad in military uniform, her slender figure framed by dissipating storm clouds that echoed the tumult of the sky.
Benedict looked at her, a mix of pain and fury etched on his face. "Lyra, must you really confront me, your grandfather, to the death?"
"I don’t remember us ever being on the same side," Lyra replied, transforming her weapon into a long sword. "We’ve just been using each other, haven’t we?"
The Calvin family aimed to draw her into their ranks, hoping to leverage her power for negotiations with the military. On the flip side, she needed their help to infiltrate the military’s inner circle.
In truth, the Calvin family had their sights set on her, hoping she would align with the Stellar Devourers.
Benedict’s feigned concern melted away, replaced by dark disdain. "So, when did you start doubting me?"
"From the very beginning, I never trusted you," Lyra declared, looking down at him from her elevated position. "There are two major flaws in your plan. First, fifteen years ago, when I was at my lowest, you didn’t lift a finger to help."
Back then, she had assumed the Calvin family was simply indifferent. Now it was clear they had been waiting for her to cut ties with the Shedd family.
"Second," she continued, her voice firm, "when I returned to the Calvin family, you never once asked about my freezing power."
This was her biggest concern. Upon her return, she had already regained her ability to freeze, yet before that, she had only possessed healing abilities. Benedict’s avoidance of the topic suggested either a lack of interest or a troubling awareness of her powers.
The lingering superpower particles from Isadora at Doctor Brian’s assassination site only deepened her suspicion.
In that moment, Benedict realized he had become nothing more than a clown in her eyes, stripped of his facade, his act utterly ridiculous.
"I once thought you could shoulder Seren’s unfinished responsibilities. Instead, you betray your own bloodline, betray your mission!"
"Indeed, the blood of the Shedd family is too tainted. All that effort wasted," she shot back.
He struck his cane against the ground, and suddenly, the entire estate resonated with the sounds of a symphonic orchestra.
"This is the royal march of the Varmoket family, a fitting requiem for you worthless lot!" he proclaimed, as if bestowing upon them a twisted honor.
The music swelled, painting grand images of opulent palaces adorned in gold and luxury. Yet, no one dared to revel in such beauty.
As Benedict activated his superpower, the picturesque castle began to collapse, drowning in the chaos of the music. People, flowers, and aspirations were buried under the rubble.
The soundwaves surged like a tidal wave, crashing with immense force. Lyra dropped her light shield, locking eyes with the butler, Albert, who stood firm before her.
"You can’t match me; give up the fight," she challenged.
The old butler held his ground, hand pressed against his chest. "My ancestors have always served the Varmoket family, even when the Empire cast them aside and propped up that puppet constitutional royal family."
"I grew up serving the master, and my loyalty is engraved in my bones."
Isadora was trapped by her bloodline, and Albert was shackled by a lifetime of indoctrination and servitude. Both had sacrificed everything for the elusive dream of revival.
As Isadora escaped, Albert fell to Lyra’s blade. In his final moments, he lost the dignity of his position, clad in a tattered tailcoat, his hair in disarray, desperately clutching at her leg, hoping for Benedict’s escape.
Lyra kicked him aside, and as he tumbled against the railing, he looked up through the intricately carved balusters, pondering what the Empire’s royal family had been like four hundred and fifty years ago.
But he couldn’t envision it; it was all just an illusion.
Benedict, driving the Lev, shouted at the screen displaying Westros, "Come and get me!"
Westros floated in an endless void, surrounded by a suffocating nothingness.
"Who do you think you’re talking to?" he sneered, dripping with disdain for human hierarchy. To him, royalty and commoners were mere trifles—insignificant as ants to a planet. It didn’t matter if they were nobles or soldiers; with a single flick of his finger, he could crush them all.
As he felt the rush of wind behind him, Benedict gritted his teeth and shouted, "Please, save me!"
"Let me recover first," came the cold, detached reply.
With that, the entire scene darkened, draining Benedict of his power. The void swallowed both light and sound, leaving Benedict feeling utterly helpless.
Suddenly, the Lev plummeted downward. A chilling blade pierced through the vehicle’s roof!
Lyra had been ready to halt the Lev when a shiver raced down her spine, forcing her to leap off just in time.
Countless spikes shot out in every direction, and she quickly transformed her Schedar into a shield.
To her shock, the once-invulnerable Schedar shattered under the onslaught.
Lyra leaned back, narrowly evading the attack. She watched as the spikes flew past her, then curved back, regrouping around Benedict.
They formed into a silvery sphere, speckled with black and gold.
"Your mother loved you so much," Benedict remarked, his tone dripping with mockery. "She even left you that half-finished piece of work."
Chapter 237: "Schedar"
Lyra’s heart raced as it hit her: the real Schedar was right there in Benedict’s grip. The one left behind by Seren? Just a rough draft.
Even that half-finished piece of work boasted attack and defense skills on par with a level-nine Peculiar, so Benedict’s version had to be off the charts.
Benedict’s sneer deepened as he sensed her anxiety, his eyes glinting with disdain. "Let me show you what Schedar is really for." With a flick of his finger, the football-sized orb transformed into a colossal bell that rang out melodiously as it swayed.
Suddenly, his superpower kicked in—a wave of sound radiated from him like a shockwave. The ground shook violently, layers of dirt flying up as if the earth itself was rebelling, while the air warped around them.
In an instant, the sound wave barreled toward her. Lyra quickly activated her Schedar armor, conjuring shimmering light shields for defense, but they shattered like glass.
The wave hit her, sending her reeling, her silver armor morphing into a protective sphere.
Blood trickled from her ears, a relentless buzzing filling her head as she lost her hearing entirely. Dark bruises blossomed across her skin, a testament to the internal injuries she sustained.
"Cough... cough!"
Lyra grimaced as the realization hit her: Schedar was designed to amplify and boost superpowers.
"My Varmoket royal bloodline comes with great psychokinesis," Benedict taunted, his eyes gleaming with malice. "The last king dreamed up a weapon fueled by psychokinesis, and Schedar was its name. But the commoners revolted."
His voice dripped with sarcasm. "Those same commoners, clamoring for equal rights, took my family hostage to seize this tech. My ancestors were exiled among the stars, only to be hunted down in secrecy."
He recounted the bitter family saga passed through generations, each ruler’s anger and thirst for revenge fueling the next. As the latest head of the family, he struggled to suppress his deep-seated rage.
Lyra’s expression turned serious as she tightened her grip on her sword. "Yet you allied with the Empire. The very people who robbed you of your legacy are likely still out there."
Supreme Peculiars and those above had transcended human limits, nursing grudges that spanned decades.
"You wretched scoundrel! How dare you! I used to spin our family’s history like a bedtime story!" Benedict’s fury erupted, words spilling out like lava. "This is all for the glory of the Varmoket name!"
Under Westros’ influence, he had chosen to work with the Empire’s military, acquiring some Schedar in the bargain.
Lyra shot down his fantasies without mercy. "You called it a fairy tale! The Empire won’t bring back the old regime after consuming the Alliance."
History isn’t rewound; the lessons learned from oppressive power would ensure the Empire wouldn’t allow that cycle to restart.
"Shut your mouth!"
With a deafening roar, Benedict rang the bell again. Sound waves crashed in from every direction as Lyra leaped skyward on her light shields. But the waves relentlessly pursued her, echoing through the sky, striking her again.
Her vision faded, and she plummeted to the ground, hitting hard. Her military uniform, once pristine, now lay stained with mud and blood. At last, she sprawled on the uneven terrain, blood seeping from every pore, convulsing in agony.
Her healing energy enveloped her in a frantic bid to restore her fading strength.
Just when Lyra thought she’d managed to patch herself up, the sound waves crashed back like a tidal wave.
The bell next to Benedict rattled ominously, as if it were a cruel reminder of her vulnerability.
Exhaustion took over, draining her powers and leaving her unable to fight back.
With a harsh clang, Benedict approached the almost lifeless Lyra and kicked her disdainfully, sneering, "Just like your mother, you’re worthless."
In a flash, a sharp glimmer caught his eye.
Reacting quickly, he unleashed a sound wave to deflect the incoming attack. Meanwhile, Lyra, barely conscious, widened her eyes and pushed herself up with one hand.
In a burst of determination, she swept her leg, striking his ankle.
Caught off guard, Benedict stumbled, losing his balance and crashing to the ground.
Drawing on his past experiences, he launched another sound wave, but before he could feel any relief, Lyra staggered to her feet and retaliated, her fist smashing into his chest.
A sickening crack echoed as her ribcage shattered, but her weakened state meant she couldn’t completely take him down.
Benedict, having led a life of privilege, was unaccustomed to such agony; his vision blurred as he shook the Schedar desperately.
The bell rang on, a relentless "ding, ding, ding!"
Panicking, Benedict rolled and crawled away, summoning every ounce of strength to attack.
The ground erupted around them, but Lyra skillfully navigated the chaos, gripping his ankle and bringing her other hand down like a blade.
Another crack resonated as his leg broke beneath her strike. The old man crumpled, dragging his shattered limb along the ground as he struggled to channel his superpower amidst the relentless clamor of the bell.
Blood streamed from Lyra’s eyes and nose, her body battered and torn, yet she kept pressing on, her fists hammering down on his abdomen without a shred of hesitation.
THUD! THUD! THUD!
With one last, resounding chime, "Thud!" echoed as Benedict choked on his own blood, his insides ruptured. The excruciating pain left him utterly defenseless.
The bell transformed into a sphere, crashing down to the ground with a dull thud.
Panting heavily and drenched in blood, Lyra looked down at him. "You... you clearly... cough, cough, have no superpower left..." Benedict’s bloodied face reflected disbelief.
"True, I don’t," she replied, a manic grin spreading across her face. "But the pain from Soul Spike is far worse than this."
Taking a moment to catch her breath, she picked up the fallen Schedar. In that instant, the connection between Benedict and the Schedar was severed, causing him to writhe in agony.
As she approached, transforming the Schedar into a sword, her gaze locked onto his head, wordless and determined.
Just as she was about to strike, an all-consuming force surged from beneath him.
But her powers were too depleted; the sword plunged into the earth instead, and Benedict vanished just in time.
With heightened caution, Lyra scanned the area. She confirmed no Stellar Devourer was lurking nearby before collapsing to the ground, utterly spent.
Fighting to stay conscious, she focused on regaining her strength and healed her injuries.
Moments later, Valeria arrived with a group of followers.
Surveying the scene, she felt an unsettling sensation.
"Ma’am," Lyra managed to rise, saluting respectfully. She always kept her public demeanor polished.
Valeria nodded, taking in the devastation. It was clear the battle had been brutal. "Where is he?"
"I wasn’t strong enough; he was saved by the Stellar Devourer."
"Saved?" Valeria clicked her tongue in irritation. "Of all people, why did it have to be you who captured him? This complicates things."
Lyra understood her implication and calmly sheathed her sword. "Whether I was here or not, it would have been a problem either way."
The accompanying superpower detection team meticulously examined the scene, quickly collecting samples of the Stellar Devourer’s energy particles.
Valeria accepted the samples, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. "Hopefully, this will convince the old fogies."
But the real trouble was only just beginning.
Chapter 238: Suspended
The saga of the Calvin family within the Alliance began with an incredible story: a young prince from the Empire, fleeing peril, saved the prince of the Alliance. To escape his pursuers, the Empire’s young prince concealed his identity, taking on the role of royal guard for the Alliance’s prince.
At that time, the royal family of the Alliance had its own independent army, distinct from the military.
The young prince climbed the ranks during various campaigns, eventually earning the title of Marquis of Roses. However, as the Alliance military transitioned into a legion that began conscripting civilians, the power dynamics shifted.
With covert backing from the military and government, commoners soon became the legion’s backbone, effectively severing its connection to the royal family.
As a result, the Marquis of Roses saw his influence wane significantly. Yet, despite this decline, the Calvin family managed to rise to high nobility, garnering considerable attention.
Now, however, that prestige lay in ruins following the public exposure of Benedict’s crimes.
The revelation sent shockwaves through the world, igniting heated debates even within the Empire: the Varmoket royal family, long exiled, had somehow become marquises in the Alliance.
Benedict had escaped, but his son Kritt was captured by Valeria herself. During his trial, some of Kritt’s responses left the courtroom in stunned silence.
"Are you aware of everything your father, Benedict Calvin, has done?"
"Yes."
"Were you involved in the human gene experiments?"
Kritt maintained a stoic demeanor. "My daughter, Isadora, was created using the genes from my wife and me at the Stellar Devourer’s facility. I had no knowledge of this until after she was born."
His relationship with Genevieve had always been fraught, and their years apart had left them childless for nearly two decades. Isadora’s unexpected birth thrust him into the role of a pawn, much like Seren had experienced.
In terms of Kritt’s culpability, that was essentially the extent of it. Despite forty years of military service and numerous victories for the Empire, he now stood trial for treason.
His defense attorney pleaded for leniency, citing Kritt’s long record of service. However, the military officials presiding over the case disagreed after deliberation.
"Everything he did was in pursuit of returning to the Empire; that intention does not absolve his guilt."
"But his actions directly benefited the Alliance!" the attorney insisted, his voice rising. This was the crux of the issue—the distinction between intending to kill and actually committing murder.
Due to the military’s aversion to discussing human experimentation and traitors, Kritt received a death sentence. Following this, trials commenced for the collateral branches of the Calvin family.
Lyra sat in the waiting area, feeling the weight of their fates and the military’s overwhelming authority pressing down on her. Then, it was her turn to face judgment.
She never knew that a routine mission would turn her into a suspect; also, she had never imagined that her quest for the truth behind her parents’ deaths would lead her to confront not only the truth but also the very creator who had given her life.
Such an ironic twist of fate had befallen her. Yet, she faced it all with a sense of calm and dignity.
"Lyra Shedd, do you know everything Benedict Calvin has done?"
"No, I don’t."
Until Robin had led her into that lab, she had been blissfully ignorant. Despite being the most successful subject of the human experiments and at the heart of the unfolding events, her lack of knowledge about the specifics didn’t shield her from the impending consequences.
Punishment was looming, dictated solely by her bloodline and identity.
The high council had convened, a gathering of admirals and several Supremes serving the Alliance’s military.
Admiral Dale, barely containing his impatience, declared, "I’ve said it before: we can’t let Lyra live. With her physical strength, she could easily take down a level-nine master. Who knows what kind of monster she might turn into in the future? She deserves the death penalty."
Valeria bristled at this, her resolve hardening. "Her strength is impressive, but what does that have to do with how we handle her? You just can’t stand to see talented young people rise!"
"Don’t play the soft-hearted grandma with me!" Dale shot back, his voice sharp.
"Can we focus on the facts?" Valeria countered, frustration simmering beneath her calm exterior.
As tensions escalated, Admiral Vince stepped in, flashing a smile to defuse the situation. "Let’s calm down, both of you."
He paused thoughtfully before continuing, "First, we have the Shedd family, and now the Calvin family. Lyra is too deeply intertwined with them. But since we lack solid evidence, we should treat her like the other subjects and impose life imprisonment. Furthermore, to prevent her from contaminating the human gene pool, we should prohibit her from marrying or having children."
Both proposals carried weight, swaying the discussion in a particular direction.
The absence of clear evidence suggested that Lyra was implicated in wrongdoing, making execution seem unjust.
The second point emphasized the risks associated with genetic experimentation: the complexities of human genetics meant that any alterations could potentially lead to hereditary defects. If such defects entered the gene pool across generations, they could threaten humanity’s very survival. The various genetic diseases plaguing society served as a stark reminder of this danger.
Dale quickly chimed in, "Exactly! We don’t know if Lyra and the other subjects are part of a Stellar Devourer conspiracy. They could be used to bring about humanity’s downfall!"
For once, the hot-headed admiral articulated a widely shared concern.
A silver-haired woman nodded gravely. "Admiral Dale has a point."
Despite Valeria’s intent to defend Lyra, she found herself lacking a solid basis to argue against this reasoning.
Ultimately, Frederick made the final call. "Then it’s settled: she will be prohibited from bearing children to prevent any potential genetic leakage."
Valeria opened her mouth to protest but fell silent. The men around her spoke of stripping a woman of her reproductive rights as if it were a mere administrative decision.
"That’s final," Frederick stated, his tone dismissive.
Just as Admiral Dale was about to agree, a thought struck him. "Wait, what about her punishment? I mean, the imprisonment?"
"Strictly speaking, she, like the other subjects, is a victim. They had no say in their existence," Frederick replied, surveying the room. "Moreover, there’s no evidence that she participated in any wrongdoing or turned traitor. In fact, she’s the one who exposed the crimes of both the Shedd family and the Calvin family."
Vince Admiral quickly countered, "But Benedict Calvin did escape from her grasp."
"That was because the Stellar Devourer interfered!" Valeria shot back, presenting evidence. "A significant amount of blood was found at the scene, belonging to both her and Benedict, which clearly indicates they struggled. She wasn’t acting out of favoritism!"
The discussion spiraled into a heated debate about Lyra’s loyalty to the Alliance. At that moment, the two Supremes who had been part of the rescue stepped forward.
"This girl’s loyalty to the Alliance is beyond question. She fought tooth and nail to save Valeria and took out enemies with incredible skill," one of them asserted, earning a nod of agreement from Lynn.
Admiral Dale sensed the tide turning against him and quickly added, "But you can’t overlook her blood ties to the Shedd and Calvin families! We can’t just let her off scot-free!"
Frederick turned to the older woman, who was thoughtfully clasping her hands. "You raise a valid point," she conceded.
"It’s indeed tough to justify letting her go without any consequences," another voice chimed in.
Frederick frowned, weighing their words carefully. "In that case, let’s suspend her for now while we deliberate further."
Chapter 239: Back to Reality
When the court announced its verdict on Lyra’s future, she barely reacted, her brow only slightly furrowed.
The fact they didn’t strip her of her military rank was likely thanks to Valeria’s influence. A suspension still left her with a bit of wiggle room.
As for the ruling against having kids, it didn’t bother her much. Even without a mandatory requirement, she had no plans for motherhood. To her, being born should be a celebration, but her life was one filled with regret.
After the trial wrapped up, Kritt and a handful of other important prisoners were escorted to the execution grounds to face their fate.
Lyra stole a quick glance in their direction as she exited the military court.
Just outside, a woman barreled toward her. Lyra instinctively sidestepped, but the woman’s voice cut through the air like a knife: "It’s all your fault, monster! You’ll get them all killed!"
Genevieve was a shadow of her former self, no longer the poised lady she used to be. With a black feathered hat and a veil flailing, she lunged at Lyra again, causing her hat to topple and leaving her hair in disarray.
When Lyra twisted Genevieve’s arm behind her back, she cried out, "You ruthless jinx! After you wrecked the Shedd family, you teamed up with that bastard to ruin the Calvins!"
Without her noble standing, Genevieve was looking at a trial in the Alliance court, where a lengthy prison sentence awaited her. In an instant, she’d plunged from high society into madness.
Her voice cracked as she sobbed, "Give my Isadora back, you witch! And my Kritt! You and that old fool should be the ones punished, not my daughter and husband!"
This poor woman had been duped by Benedict years ago, losing ten eggs under the pretense of "in vitro fertilization."
Six of those children had been destroyed in the process, leaving only Isadora alive.
When Kritt finally tell her the truth, her world crumbled. She spiraled into despair, powerless to change her daughter’s fate. The weight of judgment pressed down on her like a heavy blanket.
Eventually, the police took Genevieve away to the Alliance court. Spectators whispered and pointed, especially when they caught sight of Lyra’s unflinching demeanor.
A wave of tension rippled through the crowd as Lyra met their stares with a frigid gaze.
Once Lyra departed with Lev, a collective sigh of relief washed over them.
"That woman is cold-hearted!" one onlooker murmured.
"She turned in Ansel and even captured Benedict without flinching!" another chimed in.
"Her uncle is headed for execution, yet she looks completely unfazed."
It was chilling.
Feelings? As Lev drove, Lyra pressed a hand to her chest. Her heart thumped steadily, as if determined to keep going. She was immune to the chaos around her, but simply existing drained too much energy from her.
"Boss, we’re at the military zone," Lev announced.
Lyra glanced at the familiar gates—the place where she had spent most of the last six months.
As she stepped out of the car, she spotted Ryan rolling toward her in a sleek wheelchair, holding a box.
Today, he wasn’t hiding behind sunglasses, and the red-rimmed eyes told a different story. His expression shifted to one of anguish when he saw her.
"I applied for a work-related injury discharge, and it got approved," he said, anticipating her question.
But all Lyra offered was a nod. "That’s good." After a moment, she added, "Take care of yourself, sir."
At her words, the tension on Ryan’s face broke, and he buried his face in his hands, tears streaming down.
"The training ground felt way too empty today," he murmured between sobs.
Lyra watched Ryan roll away, and then she stepped into the familiar military zone.
A wave of memories crashed over her. She recalled the little moments shared with her teammates—the morning dew sparkling on the training ground when she had tied up Marty and the others.
Those memories glimmered brightly in her mind, but they were all she had left.
Inside, Hazel was hustling around with the administrative team, frantically compiling the causes of death and filing compensation claims based on years of service.
When she spotted Lyra, the redness around her eyes deepened, a clear sign of her exhaustion.
"I’m so glad you’re back," Hazel said, hurriedly signing Lyra’s resignation papers. "I’ve nearly lost my mind with all these family members hounding me."
"Are they after compensation?" Lyra asked.
"Yeah," Hazel sighed, surprisingly venting her frustrations. "Most people who join the Special Forces seem to forget about family ties. Some of these ’families’ are not even on the same family tree; it’s incredibly frustrating to deal with."
Fortunately, access to the military zone was limited; otherwise, Hazel would have been overwhelmed by the sheer number of inquiries.
Lyra took the papers, glanced them over, and saluted her.
Hazel nodded, a faint smile on her lips. "Let’s grab coffee sometime."
"Anytime," Lyra replied.
As she walked away, Hazel watched her slender figure retreat, forcing a smile that felt more like a cry.
"Why did you talk to her so much?" a young assistant asked, puzzled.
Hazel sighed deeply. "I’ve been here for almost a whole life, and I barely have any old friends left to share coffee with now."
Almost all of them had perished, and the few survivors had climbed the ranks, now far away from her level.
When new recruits came in, Hazel would have to don the role of the cold, distant bureaucrat once more.
After packing her things, Lyra climbed back into her Lev’s. "To the workplace," she ordered.
Pushing aside thoughts of the Special Forces, Lyra began to reflect on everything that had happened since graduation.
Unlike her cautious dealings with the Shedd family, the chaos surrounding the Calvin family’s genetic experiments had erupted unexpectedly, leaving her no time to step back.
From her conversations with Westros and Benedict, it became clear they wanted to pull her into the Empire’s sphere, while someone on the Alliance side was trying to cut her ties to the Calvins.
"Here we are," her driver said softly.
As she stepped out, Crag commented jokingly, "You’re really impressive, boss. Even after everything, you still manage to show up at the office."
To Lyra, all that had happened felt like old news. Worrying about it now seemed pointless until she found a solution. The best choice was to ensure current troubles didn’t interfere with other matters.
She needed to keep a close watch on her business to prevent partners from exploiting her suspension... especially the folks from Voidstar No.2.
"I heard you got suspended? Why not come back to Voidstar No.2 and hang with us?" Snakehead, cigar clamped between his teeth, seemed almost gleeful.
Lyra leaned back in her chair, arms crossed and head supported by her hand. She showed no sign of defeat. Instead, a glimmer of disdain sparked in her eyes.
"You want me back at Voidstar? Fine by me."
At the same time, she called Caesara. The tough woman was ready to give Snakehead a piece of her mind. "You fat fool, why bring that up now? She’s level eight! You want her back on your turf?"
As Snakehead’s holographic image flickered, it reflected his fading confidence. In his moment of triumph, he had almost overlooked a crucial detail.
The memory of Blackheart—who had fled to Voidstar No. 1 only to be taken down by Lyra—sent a shiver down his spine.
Bringing Lyra back to Voidstar No. 2 wasn’t just about him; it was about her dragging him along for the ride.
"Hey, I was just joking, really! Don’t take it seriously, my lady," he stammered, his bravado slipping.
"Don’t worry," Lyra replied, a teasing smile creeping onto her face.
Just as Snakehead began to relax, she added, "Even if I don’t go back, you two are already stuck on my boat."
Both Caesara and Snakehead halted, realizing with a sinking feeling that yes, they were indeed following her lead.
Chapter 240: Where to Go
After a brief, tense silence, Snakehead asked seriously, "So what’s the plan? Are you really thinking about operating in this limbo with us?"
"Your business is too cautious and boring. I might as well be a pirate," she replied with a nonchalant shrug.
Snakehead clicked his tongue in disbelief. "I’m telling you, with your skills, you could fit in anywhere else!"
On Voidstar No. 1, there was one person at level nine, and Snakehead had heard countless stories of level nines falling to Lyra’s prowess.
And the space pirates who exceeded that level? They didn’t even call themselves pirates; they ruled fixed planets like independent nations, outside the control of the Alliance and the Empire.
Calm as a Queen unconcerned by her eunuch’s anxieties, Lyra stated, "I’m just suspended, not expelled."
As long as the higher-ups still believed in her, she had a shot at redemption.
Just then, her new assistant knocked at the door. "Boss, someone wants to see you. He said he’s your brother. Should I let him up?"
Lyra’s expression darkened instantly, leaving the assistant feeling uneasy. ’Did I make a mistake? Her real brother has been driven away, so this one must be a fraud. But he’s dressed in military attire...’
While the assistant wrestled with his thoughts, Lyra spoke firmly. "Take him to the meeting room."
Turning back to Snakehead and Caesara, she added, "For now, this is how it stands. If there are any issues you can’t handle, just say the word, and I’ll come personally."
The last four words dripped with a subtle menace, making it clear she wouldn’t hesitate to deal with anyone trying to take advantage of the situation.
"With that assurance, we’re solid!" Snakehead felt a wave of relief wash over him.
Even without her military status, Lyra was a true level eight powerhouse, her combat skills rivaling those of level nines. Their financial prospects remained intact.
After ending the call, Lyra made her way to the meeting room.
A young man with black hair sat there, sipping from a steaming cup of tea. Although his white military uniform had new insignias, Lyra recognized him immediately.
Sitting down beside him, she remarked, "Looks like you found yourself some formidable backing."
Her tone was laced with sarcasm and disdain.
Robin set down his cup and called out, "Why that look? Shouldn’t you be happy for your family?"
"Don’t use that word," Lyra interrupted coldly. "We’re just productions happening to be in the same batch; bloodlines is not really a thing there."
If they were to argue about legal blood relations, then she would have to consider taking care of those experimental subjects—an idea that struck her as absurdly ironic.
Robin grimaced slightly. He glanced at Lyra, noting her tailored shirt and slacks. "When I was informed I’d become the heir of the Calvin family, Admiral Whyte approached me, instructing me to secretly monitor Benedict and the progress of the experiments. And when Westros sought you out, he had already decided to get rid of the Calvin family."
Without waiting for Robin’s response, Lyra pieced together the truth. "He sent me just to expose Ansel’s lab, right? He knew I would find a way to dig up dirt on him. He knew I would confront Westros first, leading to a showdown, and ultimately sever my tie with the Calvin family completely."
Lyra’s piercing gaze made Robin feel the weight of her realization. He nodded reluctantly. "Yes."
"Then I assume that he’s been keeping an eye on me since my father’s death?" she asked.
Lyra had a feeling that Frederick had focused on her the moment she re-entered the military’s radar.
For instance, during her freshman year at AMAT, when the principal had insisted she participate in certain activities, she had thought Ansel was behind it all. Now it was clear that Frederick had seen through her intentions, nudging her onto a predetermined path.
Through her struggles with the Shedd family, she had gotten close to the Calvins, only to uncover the truth about their genetic experiments, leading to her final break with them.
"And he knows my power can counter the Stellar Devourer?" asked Lyra.
Robin shifted uncomfortably, feeling the charged particles of Lyra’s energy swirling around him. That caused his skin to prickle. "If it weren’t for that, Frederick wouldn’t waste time on a mere experimental subject."
After sharing this, Robin braced for her reaction but only received a cold, dismissive "Huh."
The analogy of a predator stalking its prey sprang to mind. Ansel was like the grasshopper, while Benedict and Westros were the hawks, and Frederick was the eagle circling above.
Lyra leaned back into the couch. "So, is Frederick sending you to tell me I still have a chance to return to the military?"
Robin was unsure if she was accepting or rejecting this news, but he didn’t care; he was just the messenger.
"Admiral Whyte wanted me to reveal the truth and tell you the invitation to join Legion Glory for you is on the way."
"Alright then," Lyra blurted out.
Robin was taken aback by how quickly she agreed.
He quickly added, "There’s one more thing: you could have told me the truth later, yet you intentionally led me to the lab to gather evidence, pushing me to confront Benedict, making me take the fall for you... We need to settle that score."
Lyra suddenly started to unfasten her cufflinks, and she turned to her assistant. "You can step out now, and close the door."
Reading the danger in her eyes, Robin started to rise, but Lyra pressed a hand firmly on his shoulder. "What’s the rush?"
As the assistant closed the door, she caught a glimpse of Lyra gripping Robin’s hair, slamming his head down onto the coffee table.
Outside, the assistant trembled at the door, fearing for her boss. ’Will she really go that far? Should I call for help? No, she may silence me too!’
In a panic, she resolved to inform Morrison to prepare a cleanup crew to erase any evidence.
Before her thoughts could spiral further, the door to the meeting room swung open.
Lyra adjusted her cufflinks as she stepped out, calmly instructing her assistant, "Go find someone to clean this up."
The assistant, still trembling, lowered her voice nervously. "Maybe we should just use a cleaning robot instead." After all, what if the cleaner let something slip?
Lyra shot her a glance. "That’ll be too much for a robot."
The assistant’s eyes widened in terror as she took two steps back. ’It she really that brutal? Is it really THAT gruesome in there?’
Determined to prove her worth, she rolled up her sleeves. "I’ll clean it up, don’t worry, boss!"
Lyra frowned, puzzled by her assistant’s lack of common sense. "You do what you want."
As Lyra stepped away, the assistant took a deep breath and bravely entered the room. The sight of the disarray and splatters of blood nearly sent her into shock.
Suddenly, a bloodied hand emerged from behind the overturned couch, causing her to scream,
It was Robin, rising unsteadily, his clothes drenched in red.
"She didn’t actually kill you?!" the assistant exclaimed, incredulous.
Lyra was clever, but what her new assistant...
"Idiot," Robin muttered, shaking his head as he struggled to stand.