Chapter 176: No reason, just plain bad, just plain arrogant

Chapter 176: No Reason—Just Sheer Evil, Sheer Arrogance

???

I’m not asking because I don’t understand—I’m asking because either you’re insane, or my ears are broken and hearing things.

Their hearing, of course, was perfectly sharp.

So the only possibility was that the other party was certifiably insane.

Otherwise, how could they so casually utter such psychopathic words?!

Destroying a planet with the same indifference as kicking a pebble on the sidewalk.

When everyone heard the entitled bastard’s thoughts in Sheng Qingquan’s mind, they truly understood his earlier disbelief.

Indeed, compared to this guy, all the previous spoiled brats were nothing.

They were practically minor pests who deserved life in prison or a bullet to the head.

But this one? Those two punishments alone would be nowhere near enough for his crimes!

Shouldn’t every torture in the book be arranged for him?

No wonder ancient times had so many cruel punishments. Back then, they were green and ignorant—never could’ve imagined that some things truly had a reason to exist.

But anger aside, the staff merely mused about these ideas without any real intention to act on them.

Not because the guy didn’t deserve it, but because they feared opening Pandora’s box. After all, society had progressed, and it had taken great effort to ban those tortures from history. Digging them up again might be justified for the worst monsters, but the risk of abuse was too high.

And they might not even have the means to do so.

If *Tianlanxing* couldn’t win the fight, then there was nothing to say.

Even if they could win, they couldn’t afford to waste time on payback.

They had to hurry up and take him out before things dragged on and gave the enemy a chance to turn the tables.

That would be the most infuriating outcome of all.

Just the thought of it made some people’s blood boil. They had to recite several calming chants to barely steady their minds.

["Stop wasting time! Do you think you can afford to miss the blooming season of the *Flameblooms*?"]

["Hurry up and do it! One blast and it’s over—do you think I’m short on energy?"]

The brat continued to rant.

Meanwhile, the staff had already brainstormed a dozen gruesome ways to kill him.

Sheng Qingquan, in particular, had calmed down.

Simple reason—no one cares what the dead have to say.

He had already resolved to take him out at any cost.

"No reason—just sheer evil, sheer arrogance."

"Compared to him, even those previous aliens seem almost likable by comparison."

Though it wasn’t much better-looking, it was still an improvement!

But hey, -9999 is still way better than -10,000!

Sheng Qingquan kept reading, unfazed, confirming there was no misunderstanding or hidden backstory.

"Honestly, it’s just some rich kid throwing a tantrum."

"To them, this isn’t even a tantrum—just another Tuesday."

"No big deal, then."

"Let’s see when this jerk’s gonna crash into Tianlanxing."

"Gotta hit ’em first."

"The story didn’t say squat about this."

Still, Sheng Qingquan and the crew weren’t sweating it.

Because...

"With that spoiled attitude, no way they’d keep a low profile." We’ve all seen rich brats like this. It’s easy to figure out how they act.

Some random guy checked the news—three of the top ten trends were about trust-fund babies.

These clowns turn every little thing into a circus—new boyfriends/girlfriends, successful pregnancies, "genius babies"—all blown way out of proportion just so everyone knows.

If small-fry brats are like this, imagine the big-shot in the book.

If it doesn’t roll up with a parade, it’s probably because His Highness considers himself too classy for such vulgar displays. More importantly, in this remote corner of the galaxy, showing off would be wasted on the ignorant locals.

These backwater peasants don’t deserve a glimpse of His Highness.

Hell, it’d probably demand a welcome party 300,000 klicks out.

It’d want the red-carpet treatment—like some damn emperor.

These brats feed on drama—they love the spotlight!

"So, if we can’t pin down when it’s coming, we’ll just wait. Just let the feds keep an eye on space."

"We’ll catch ’em the second they pop up."

After giving his guy a heads-up and confirming the authorities had tightened surveillance, Sheng Qingquan went back to studying the novel.

Rather than worrying about when it would arrive, he was more focused on its strength.

Just think about the spoiled heirs on Tianlanxing.

"You gotta have clout to be this spoiled!"

"If it’s this bold, it’s gotta have the muscle to match."

"No way it’d come this deep into nowhere without backup—either its family has enough pull to protect it anywhere, or it’s got serious firepower itself (or with its entourage). Even in the middle of nowhere, it can still throw its weight around safely."

"Bet it’s both."

"Right—I refuse to believe someone with that ‘I’m the center of the universe’ vibe doesn’t have haters. There’s gotta be folks dying to take it down."

"It must have something up its sleeve."

Everyone braced themselves for the fact that this guy wouldn’t be easy to deal with.

"Strange, why is this novel cut off halfway?"

Sheng Qingquan reads very quickly. Normally, he would do a quick read-through first to get a general idea of the plot before going back to read it in detail.

For key plot points, he would even go over them again and again.

Sometimes, he would read a book over a dozen times. He'd read more if not for either lack of time or because he had already found the clues he needed, making further reading unnecessary.

It was rare for him to start reading in detail halfway through this time, only to realize—Hold up, this isn't right!

"Did the author abandon this novel?"

"No way they'd drop a novel like this!"

"At least give us some kind of ending, even a bad one!"

"What kind of nonsense is this?"

Sheng Qingquan kept flipping through the last two pages of the book, even suspecting that some pages might have stuck together, making him miss the ending.

Or maybe the story just stopped mid-sentence?

While Sheng Qingquan was puzzled, the others were getting antsy. This wasn’t a serialized story in real life—how could it just end abruptly?

"Well, even though it’s unclear why the novel only writes up to the point where the pampered heir orders the destruction of Tianlanxing, and the butler following him executes the command, instructing the ship’s AI to attack Tianlanxing—and then... nothing."

With no follow-up, a few looked downright horrified.

"Could it be that Tianlanxing was wiped out, so there was no need to write anything further?"

"Don’t jump to worst-case scenarios," he said, only for Tao Qingmiao to roll her eyes at him in exasperation.

"Isn’t it possible that, on the contrary, the enemy’s attack was a joke, easily handled? Or even if Tianlanxing couldn’t handle it effortlessly, they could handle it. The outcome was obvious, so there was no need to elaborate?"

Could be, right?

Hearing this, tense faces relaxed.

"But at least we can tell the rich kid doesn’t have the codes to his own ship."

"That ship belongs more to the butler than to him."

"He doesn’t even have the codes to his own ship—he needs the butler to handle it for him."

"The butler following him seems less like someone taking care of him and more like someone sent by his parents to keep him on a short leash."

"Excluding the possibility that he's playing possum, such a spoiled rich kid can’t be any kind of expert."

"Probably just a useless playboy. Easy to deal with."

"The real threat is likely the butler following him."

"Fortunately, aside from that butler, there’s no one else with him."

Sheng Qingquan drifted into thought, already forming a plan in his mind.

But whether this plan would work still needs to be discussed with official channels.

More minds make better plans. Not using available brainpower would be stupid.

"If it's feasible, then the steward's capabilities don't matter."

"In fact, the stronger he is, the better!"

Although the staff didn’t know what Sheng Qingquan was planning, they had complete faith in him and in official channels.

Once everything was prepared, Sheng Qingquan received a notification the next afternoon that a suspicious vessel had been detected.

Moreover, it was detected at maximum range, just as he had requested.

So at this point, Tianlan had detected the other party, but the other party hadn’t yet noticed Tianlan’s presence.

Sheng Qingquan raced to the location at top speed. Since the enemy’s strength was unclear, he didn’t just rely on the mech’s standard cloaking—he also activated his active camouflage.

This was the special ability he had acquired from the alien octopus—Perfect Concealment.

Sheng Qingquan approached the spacecraft silently, closing the distance bit by bit. The mech was nearly touching the spacecraft, yet those inside remained completely unaware.

Originally, Sheng Qingquan had thought he’d need to use mushroom spores to create an illusion, tricking them into opening the spacecraft’s door—or at least cracking open a window.

But as soon as he arrived, he was pleasantly surprised to find that this step could be skipped.

Because the pampered brat was not only entitled and spoiled but also extremely fond of indulgence.

Being stuck on a spacecraft was boring. Though he could still access the galactic net, the farther the spacecraft traveled into remote areas, the worse the signal became. Even if the latency was barely noticeable unless one paid close attention, the brat, accustomed to high-speed internet, couldn’t tolerate it.

Rather than surfing the net, he preferred to do something else.

Like now, for instance—the brat had opened the spacecraft’s observation deck.

At this moment, he was standing on the observation deck, admiring the cosmic scenery, even making a show of having the steward pour wine for him from a bottle.

Even though there were robots standing by, ready to serve at any moment.

The steward maintained his composure, carefully tilting the ornate carafe to pour wine into the brat’s glass.

Wary of spills, he poured at a steady pace—not too fast, but not too slow either.

Yet the brat still grew impatient. "You oaf! Hurry up!"

"Can’t you see my arm’s getting sore?"

The brat scolded loudly, humiliating him publicly.

This abuse was routine for the steward.

Ever since he had been stuck serving the brat, the young master had constantly invented new ways to torment him.

If the wine was poured too slowly, he’d be berated. If poured too quickly, he’d be scolded for splashing.

During meals, when prompted at mealtime, the brat would snap, "Why the rush? I’m not hungry. The sight of this slop turns my stomach—get me something else."

And the food couldn’t be prepared by robots, either, because their cooking was always the same—too mechanical for his delicate tastes.

It had to be personally prepared by the steward.

Fine, lesson learned. No more reminding him about meal times. Just prepare the food and wait for him to eat whenever he feels hungry or remembers to.

Then he screams at the butler, accusing him of trying to starve him to death. How dare he not remind him to eat, leaving him so starved he’s lightheaded and weak-limbed before realizing he hasn’t eaten yet.

And the food wasn’t freshly made? Don’t give me that crap about modern tech keeping it warm being no different from making it fresh.

Not fresh is not fresh.

His stomach only takes freshly cooked food.

When the freshly prepared food is finally served, he flips the table untouched—because it took too long, and now he’s past hunger and has no appetite.

Now even the sight of food pisses him off, and the smell makes him nauseous.

You’d think he was pregnant with how he’s acting.

When preparing clothes, if they match his usual style, he complains they’re unoriginal and outdated. If they pick a different style, he berates them for having no taste—how dare they present such unsuitable clothes? Is it on purpose, to make him look ridiculous?

What kind of half-assed butler are you?! Can’t even pick out decent clothes?

In short, whether it’s clothing, food, living conditions, or travel, he can find fault from every angle.

More high-maintenance than a diva.

The butler sees right through it. Sure, some of it’s the young master’s spoiled, delicate, and ridiculously picky upbringing. But more than that, he hates being watched like a hawk. Too cowardly to defy his family, he bullies the butler instead.

After all, the butler was trained to the highest standards of aristocratic service. He’s handled worse without a hitch.

This is pure baiting—half emotional venting, half hoping the butler will give up and quit.

In the past, the butler would just laugh off such provocations, never taking them to heart.

Because ultimately, he serves the family, not the little lord himself.

Let’s be real—the butler despises the little lord with every fiber of his being.

Watching this waste of oxygen throw a fit feels less like a challenge and more like a clown show.

But this time, hearing the heir’s insults, for some reason, the butler feels a surge of anger.

Who the hell does this useless trash think he is?

Relying on nothing but his privileged background to act superior. A goddamn ant cursing at an elephant.

In an instant, blind rage takes over. By the time the butler realizes what he’s done, it’s too late.

He stares at the neck he just snapped with his own hands.

The heir’s head flops to the side like a ragdoll. The butler reaches out to straighten it, but death is death—the spine is broken, and no amount of repositioning will bring him back.

Dead as a doornail—no bringing him back.

Around him, robots screech alarms like banshees.

Gazing at the heir’s face—still twisted with arrogance, sneering entitlement, and utter contempt—the butler suddenly smiles.

"Guess I finally snapped."

"I thought I had learned well in school, but I’ve disgraced my alma mater. Next year’s enrollment at the Butler Academy will probably hit an all-time low."

"Oh well," the butler said, releasing his grip, and dumped the playboy’s corpse like garbage. "No use crying over spilled milk."

"At least I won’t have to listen to insults anymore."

"Just looking at this face disgusts me!"

The robot kept blaring warnings. The butler forcibly destroyed it. Fortunately, he still had control of the ship. He ordered the AI to activate a new robot and commanded it to drag the playboy’s body to preservation.

"At least he’s worth a pretty penny on the black market. No sense wasting it."

This guy had pissed off plenty of people—some would pay top dollar for his head, with bounties climbing higher and higher.

Since he was going underground, cash was key.

Though he had substantial savings, most of it couldn’t be transferred in time due to the sudden incident. Every credit he could scrape together mattered now.

"Let’s find the closest black market," the butler ordered the ship’s AI to change course.

The playboy’s head wasn’t the only thing to sell—the ship had to go too. It had to be sold off quickly, and a safer mode of transportation secured.

The butler ran through the plan in his head. Perhaps because he had imagined this scenario more than once, he found his planning surprisingly smooth and natural.

The moment the ship turned and changed course, Sheng Qingquan vanished without a trace, just like he’d appeared.

"Everything went off without a hitch."

"Plan A worked like a charm—didn’t even need a Plan B."

Sheng Qingquan returned to Tianlan Star in a good mood. From here on out, Tianlan Star had nothing to do with any of it.

No—from the very beginning, it had nothing to do with Tianlan Star.

The butler thought his sudden outburst and killing of the playboy was the result of years of bottled-up rage finally boiling over.

It was only a matter of time.

But in reality, no matter what the future held, his outburst happened because Sheng Qingquan had messed with his head.

"The 'Dumb-Down' skill is a game-changer. Even if it only lasts a second each time, time it right, and it’s an instant win!"

"All those spoiled brats I’ve stalked? Worth every second."

"Nobody gets rich jerks like I do. Especially ones who think they’re God’s gift and treat everyone else like trash. Everyone around them gets screwed over."

"Who wouldn’t be pissed?"

"They just suppress it, enduring silently due to circumstances."

"All I had to do was give this 'miserable wage slave' a chance to vent his hatred."

"What a saint I am!"

Sheng Qingquan was moved by his own benevolence.

"Normally, the butler would never lay a finger on the playboy, no matter how unreasonable the demands. But when he’s not thinking straight? Pure rage."

"That butler was scum anyway."

Sheng Qingquan didn’t feel an ounce of guilt making him take the blame.

"He’s the one who did the killing. Even if the rich kid’s family wants to pursue justice, they won’t trace it back to Tianlanxing. They might not even know Tianlanxing exists."

Who knew it’d work out this way!

Everyone, totally blindsided by how this played out, was seriously impressed.

"Tianlanxing remains perfectly hidden."

"Let them fight among themselves!"

Sheng Qingquan glanced at the emerging swag, instantly pushing aside thoughts of the impending chase.

"I thought there wouldn’t be any freebies this time. Didn’t expect there’d still be some."

He felt a little thrill. Unable to resist, he kept turning them over in his hands.

The swag was a wispy white veil.

The thin gauze swirled around Sheng Qingquan for a moment before disappearing into thin air.

Only then did Sheng Qingquan realize the real surprise was still coming.

"This ability probably didn’t come from that entitled punk. Who knew the butler had that trick up his sleeve? No wonder he didn’t panic after realizing he’d killed his master. Instead, he coolly got ready to bolt."

"And it looks like he’s pretty sure he’d get away clean."

"At first, I thought it was because he doubled as a bodyguard with serious fighting chops. That’s why he wasn’t afraid of being hunted."

"Turns out there’s way more to it."

"He actually has the ability to shapeshift. His master probably didn’t even know about this. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have trusted him to take the kid out in public."

Why would knowing about this ability make them feel at ease?

This ability might sound useful, but in the end, it’s just swapping faces. Forget the interstellar world—even on Tianlanxing, that’s not particularly difficult.

Without plastic surgery, just some makeup can totally transform someone’s appearance.

Man to woman, woman to man, old to young, young to old—even human to part-demon or straight-up monster. All of this can be achieved with makeup.

Though makeup takes time and tools, which is a hassle, using an ability to change faces might be quicker and more convenient. Still, this ability doesn’t exactly scream ‘high-risk.’

The crew wasn’t buying that simply swapping faces would ensure escape in the interstellar world.

That wouldn’t even work on Tianlanxing.

Unless...

"Shapeshifting doesn’t just alter appearances. It can even change one’s genes. In other words, it’s no different from becoming an entirely different person."

"If the rich kid’s family tries to track the butler using previously collected biological samples, they’d find nothing."

"Because the butler has transformed, inside and out, into someone else."

"As long as he doesn’t revert to his original form, even if the rich kid’s family tears apart the whole galaxy looking, they won’t lay a finger on him."

"And such a complete transformation opportunity can only be used three times in a lifetime."

How could Sheng Qingquan not be thrilled?!

The staff members widened their eyes in shock: "No way, this is a godlike ability!"

But that wasn't all.

"Aside from the limited uses for a complete transformation, short-term transformations have almost no restrictions—the only limit is that they can only occur once per month."

"And this short-term transformation, just like the complete one, alters more than just appearance."

"In other words, the butler could swap identities every single month until making a clean escape, then use one of the permanent transformation chances to establish a legitimate, aboveboard identity to continue living."

"With enough audacity, it could even boldly reapply for the butler job at the playboy's household."

"On paper, it's a new hire—in reality, it's the same guy back again."

"Whoa!" Someone sucked in a sharp breath at Sheng Qingquan's speculation, feeling goosebumps rise all over. "Living on the edge—so thrilling!"

"If it were me, I'd do exactly that. Living boldly right under my enemy's nose while they’re clueless, even paying me a salary every month to support me."

"Man, just imagining it gets me pumped!"