Chapter 10
Mason had barely stepped into the Crown Princeâs council chamber when an access card, designed like an ancient key, was thrown toward him. He caught it, saw the words “Valentine Estate” inscribed on it, and broke into a satisfied grin. “Was that so hard to do in the first place?”
Ming Shiyuâs property count +1.
The Crown Prince chuckled. “It took a lot of effort to get my hands on it. Don’t you dare take the prize and then slack off on the job; Iâd be at a huge loss if you did.”
“Though, it is finally returning to its rightful ownerâthe last descendant of Duke Valentine.”
Mason toyed with the access card. “Honestly, I think the current progress is too slow. Your Highness, I understand your desire to win over the Cabinet. But the empireâs public psychic capacity is developing faster than you or I imagined. One day, the most important resource in society will no longer be people with psychic abilities, but land. The collapse of the noble class, which relies on hoarding psychic-powered factions in the interstellar era, is an irresistible trend.”
“The Emperor has been planning to distort the direction of the psychomechanical revolution for years. We don’t need to wait for the right moment. Once the impeachment power of the Duke of Valentine is legally restored, he will serve the opportunity to us on a silver platter.”
The Crown Prince pondered this for a long time before sighing helplessly: “You are my most significant ally. Compared to you, the importance of the Cabinet is indeed negligible. However, regarding the reclamation of the Duke’s seatâdo you still hold to your original idea? After all, you will be returning to the noble class, and at the end of the day, the Cabinet represents the interests of the nobility.”
Mason appreciated that the Crown Prince was willing to reduce royal power from his position to avoid more intense democratic struggles, but his methods were too softâtrying to appease both the nobles and the Cabinet, forever refusing to burn bridges.
Mason was willing to wait, but Ming Shiyu was not. If he didn’t show his face soon, his wife would be swept away by someone else.
When Mason looked up, his pale gray eyes were sharp and piercing, revealing a strength rarely seen in a politician: “I advocate for the abolition of the Cabinet.”
The Crown Prince stood in a stalemate with him for a long time before finally compromising: “I was actually considering that when I rushed to pull out the estate deed. I just didn’t expect to be pushed this far.”
Having achieved his goal, Mason playfully patted the Crown Princeâs shoulder. “Thanks for the understanding, boss. I really can’t keep acting as a robot anymore. You have no idea how painful it is to watch my wife go on dates with other people.”
The Crown Prince barely managed to suppress a laugh. “Wait, the rumors about Professor Ming looking to remarry are actually true?”
Mason: “…”
As the shuttle approached the docking port of the Interstellar Prison, Ming Shiyu leaned down toward the small microphone rising within the cabin and said, “Clear for entry.”
With the voice print confirmed, the highest-level pass embedded in the ship’s tail fin flashed. A melodic tune began to play over the port’s broadcast: “Welcome back, Special Envoy Ming. The Interstellar Prison Laboratory is ready. Your next destination isâthe first floor of the Experimental Building.”
All subsequent security checkpoints turned green, and the special envoy’s shuttle passed through as if there were no obstacles at all.
When the automatic door opened, the first step Ming Shiyu took with his black leather shoes felt wrong. He paused.
They were supposed to have arrived at the elevator entrance on the first floor of the Experimental Building, a place that was usually bustling with people and brightly lit 24/7.
Lu Fang, clumsy as ever, nearly crashed into his teacher’s back. After barely steadying himself, he shouted, “Where is this? Why is it pitch black and deserted? Is there a power outage in the Experimental Building?”
No. This was not the Experimental Building. It was a vast, dark space where only a few derelict, dust-covered shuttles were parked. It looked like a decommissioned parking garage, far from the core area of the Interstellar Prison.
Someone had tampered with their flight path in the prisonâs clearance system.
Ming Shiyu unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled them up to his elbows, revealing a section of smooth, slender arm, while saying to Lu Fang: “Where is the data pad? Lock it in the classified storage box and give it to me.”
Lu Fang handed it over without question. He knew this was a heist; the data contained the psychic development records of children from the A and B core aristocratic districts of the Capital Planet. If utilized, one could have absolute leverage over the future of the empireâs elite for the next twenty years.
But he didn’t understand why. This data had limited utility; the big shots capable of pulling stunts at the notorious Interstellar Prison didn’t need it, and the opportunists who could use it wouldn’t even be able to get close to his teacher.
The other researchers on the shuttle had been sent back to Capital University beforehand. In this abandoned garage, only he and Lu Fang remained.
Many people knew they would return to the prison lab to store the data after finishing their records at the Childrenâs Center, but very few had the capability to infiltrate the heavily guarded Interstellar Prison.
The “clack-clack” sound of heavy military boots hitting the floor was exceptionally jarring in the quiet garage. They approached with a dangerous, oppressive force.
“Damn it!” Lu Fang let out a cry of pain as a pressure net thrown from the darkness enveloped him. He was wrapped into a ball, pinned to the floor, and left unable to move or even make a sound.
Ming Shiyu frowned and turned. A tall man emerged from the darkness. His black military uniform accentuated his fluid, explosive muscle definition, but his pace was unhurried, deliberately toying with his trapped prey.
“Mr. Ming, long time no see. I heard about you when I returned from the expedition in the frontline systems last year. Itâs a pity Councilor Mason hid you so well.”
“Seeing you in person today, you certainly live up to your reputation.” Kevinâs gaze was ambiguous as he looked him up and down. He tossed his pressure net launcher aside and walked toward him.
What exactly did this person want?
Ming Shiyu retreated silently.
He had triggered the alarm the moment he exited the shuttle cabin. He needed to stall for time to wait for rescue, but the look in this manâs eyes was so repulsive that he couldn’t help but sneer:
“The Emperor is your master, right? Does this kind of ‘I didn’t lose, I just didn’t make it in time’ brand of blind arrogance transmit through power?”
“Also, the Empire entered the era of interstellar laser-warfare a century ago. Developing a physique with such exaggerated muscles is as stupid as choosing to engage in hand-to-hand combat with an intellectual instead of using your pressure net gun.”
Kevin licked his lips. Spicy.
“Baby, that depends on whether you hand over the goods obediently, or wait for me to take them by hand-to-hand combat?”
As soon as he finished speaking, the man lunged like a lightning bolt. The massive size difference and the speed and power behind the move were alarming.
Ming Shiyu dodged narrowly. Agile and quick, he caught Kevin off guard. Taking advantage of the manâs overconfidence, he grabbed the heavy steel data-storage box and smashed it toward Kevinâs head.
THUD. A bloody gash appeared on Kevin’s forehead, but he didn’t even blink. He continued his momentum and clamped his hand onto Ming Shiyuâs shoulder.
Ming Shiyu didn’t even have time to curse the manâs absurd constitution before Kevin grabbed his wrist mid-air. With a combat-trained twist, a sickening “crack” echoed as Ming Shiyu’s wrist bone was dislocated.
The steel storage box slid from his limp fingers onto the floor. Neither man cared.
Kevin, bleeding from the head, acted as if nothing had happened. He grabbed Ming Shiyuâs hands and pinned them above his head, looking with suspicion at his trembling fingers: “So afraid of pain?”
“Baby, now do you see the benefit of a strong physique?” Kevin playfully pinched his hand, adding insult to injury for the strained ligaments.
“For a brute, youâre quite sharp-tongued.”
Kevin leaned into his ear and laughed: “Youâve got a few tricks up your sleeve. His Majesty only required me to take the box back. However, I think itâs much more convenient to just take you with me.”
He paused, clearly wanting more: “Iâm not afraid of the Ming family. Do you like houses in the frontline systems?”
Ming Shiyu looked up through the pain, mocking: “I realized it back at the funeralâyou all seem to assume that as soon as Mason died, I became a helpless, delicate flower, and that as long as you handle the Ming family, you can manipulate me however you like.”
“Now itâs escalated to armed assault. Tell me, is ‘forcible seizure’ a regional cultural characteristic of your Capital Planet?”
“Don’t you like it?” Kevin countered.
“Honestly, it has a stale, two-hundred-year-old stench to it. Itâs making me want to vomit.”
Kevin didn’t care about the insults; he knew he would never win a battle of wits against a high-intellect type.
The man easily hoisted him onto his shoulder, showing off by even squatting down to pick up the steel data-storage box.
“Is this cool, baby?”
Ming Shiyu chuckled lightly. “Let me show you something cooler.”
As he spoke, keeping his position while Kevin hadn’t fully stood up yet, Ming Shiyu drove his left knee into Kevinâs chest. With a long-legged vault, he practically flipped over to pin Kevin down by his back.
Kevin hadn’t even had time to think that this light-as-a-feather beauty couldn’t possibly pin him down.
The moment Ming Shiyu landed on the back of his neck, a force of gravity descendedâheavy as a thousand tons, pinning him ruthlessly to the ground. As his chin hit the floor, he thought for a second his neck had broken.
“Cough… cough cough, you…”
He never expected to capsize in a gutter!
Being “tossed around” by a beauty could be considered a bit of fun, but having his weak points pinched by someone else was a supreme humiliation. He was even too dizzy to stand.
He was a three-time champion of the Royal Guardâs hand-to-hand combat tournament and had spent three years suppressing star pirates on the front lines. Even a boxing champion couldn’t get the better of him.
Kevinâs worldview was crumbling. Was Ming Shiyu on steroids? He had been worried heâd break the manâs thin wrist just a moment ago; there was no way that slender frame should have the strength to pin him down.
A rush of wind hit, and a crisp, sharp slap sounded. His face was smacked to the side, and a swollen, five-fingered red mark appeared instantly. Yet, Ming Shiyu was clearly still pinning him from behindâwhere did that slap come from?
This isn’t right. He finally realized that the frequency of his own mental lapses today was wrong. Even if he were overconfident, he shouldn’t be susceptible to a sneak attack by someone with zero military training.
