Chapter 77

Chapter 77

Chris was at home during the day—an unusual occurrence. Earlier, they had intercepted a large shipment of supplies, ensuring everyone’s comfort for quite some time.

As always, Katia sat on the windowsill.

Chris was trying to determine Ye Mo’s possible origin. With his leg injured, he occupied the most comfortable chair in the room.

Ye Mo brought over a small stool and sat beside Chris, slowly reconstructing fragmented memories.

Yet he could offer very little concrete information. The dump’s layout constantly shifted as new waste arrived, and the “Scavengers” had only arrived a few days prior.

When Chris and Ye Mo retraced the route based on Ye Mo’s recollection, they quickly lost the trail—even the spot where he first regained consciousness had vanished.

Ye Mo grew somewhat disheartened.

Chris reassured him: “Take it slow. Clues will surface eventually.”

“Truthfully, forgetting everything might not be such a bad thing. If you remembered, you might suffer endlessly here.”

Most of those exiled alongside Chris were already dead—some killed in conflicts or accidents, the majority by their own hands.

They had all once been prodigies, raised in privilege within their homelands. Perhaps one misstep had cast them into exile. While others might still hope to emigrate via the Star Network leagues, people like them had no such avenue.

Such a catastrophic fall could shatter the mind.

Chris himself had wallowed in despair for a long time before regaining his footing—especially after having his psychic abilities stripped away.

Ye Mo’s mental state remained relatively stable. Aside from initial disorientation—often sitting alone in corners, unable to engage with others—he improved significantly after Chris gradually involved him in daily chores.

Chris retrieved a small bag of biscuits from nearby and handed it to Ye Mo for comfort, then gently helped him organize his thoughts.

“The trash planet’s administrators are largely inaccessible; their troops never interact with people like us. We’ll start with local violent gangs. With luck, we may even reach the authorities through them. They ship vast quantities to the administrators annually—money, resources, and possibly even people.”

Almost all nations outlaw slave trading. Yet, as everyone knows, there are no “citizens” on a trash planet—so such trade flourishes here. Because they maintain a legitimate pretext for stationing troops, these zones are comparatively “safe,” attracting many wealthy elites. In some respects, the bustling districts of the trash planet resemble those beyond its borders.

Chris didn’t elaborate further for Ye Mo. “Though numerous factions exist—large and small—only one holds decisive advantage: the Hungry Wolf. Together with the authorities, they control this planet. Only they possess the right to enter and exit freely.”

Ye Mo looked at Chris, torn between confusion and awe. “Then how do I make contact?”

“It won’t be difficult. The Hungry Wolf has a presence everywhere—large and small. The people you met earlier on West Street belong to a subsidiary branch.”

A sharp knock sounded at the door. Ji Ting, nearby, rose immediately to open it. Chris and Ye Mo paused and turned.

The person outside did not enter. He handed Ji Ting a letter. “This is the condition we agreed upon earlier. We expect your timely arrival.”

With that, he departed without delay.

Ji Ting closed the door and handed the envelope directly to Chris. “Could this be a trap?”

Chris opened it. Inside appeared only a time and location—nothing else. He frowned.

Ye Mo glanced at Katia. Over the past few days, he’d learned the person those outsiders sought to invite was Katia. “Is Katia going alone?”

Chris glanced first at Katia. Seeing him uncharacteristically silent, Chris felt relieved and replied to Ye Mo, “No—there’s no stipulation. We’ll all go.”

“Then I want to go too.”

Everyone understood Ye Mo’s intent.

Ji Ting spoke most bluntly: “West Street falls under the Hungry Wolf. But for something like this, you won’t gain much useful intelligence just by attending—unless…”

Unless he joined them. Yet the Hungry Wolf’s methods were extreme: once in, escape was nearly impossible except through death. They forbade defection—and had expanded to their current scale precisely through such ruthless discipline.

Chris reassured Ye Mo: “I’ll find a way for you. Don’t worry.”

Ye Mo looked steadily at Chris. “I still want to go.”

At that moment, Katia stepped down from the windowsill, slipped his hands into his pockets, and stood upright. “Let him go and take a look. Let him see clearly what the Hungry Wolf truly is.”

He walked toward the lounge. “I’m going to sleep for a while. You all should stay reasonable. Sooner or later, he must learn how to survive here.”

Chris relented. “Fine—just taking a look won’t hurt.”

Ye Mo finally exhaled in relief. “I won’t cause any trouble.”

After Katia left, Chris and Ji Ting exchanged a glance.

Ji Ting: “Is Katia in an unusually good mood today?”

He hadn’t even reacted when others called his name—normally, he’d have shot them a glare by now.

Ye Mo realized belatedly: “Did I do something wrong?”

Chris had almost spoken—but held back. Instead, he smiled gently. “No, this is perfectly fine.”

…

West Street scheduled the meeting for nighttime—and even dispatched a hovercar to fetch them.

Before boarding, Chris pulled up the hood of Ye Mo’s hoodie and whispered, “Stay between us. Don’t draw attention.”

The hovercar sped straight to the vibrant central district, finally halting on a street. The entire stretch had been cordoned off; shops on both sides were tightly shuttered, no pedestrians in sight, no lights burning—residents inside seemingly evacuated.

The hovercar came to rest at the base of a towering building.

The moment Chris stepped out, he spotted Sergei—the man he’d met before. Chris approached and extended his hand. “Now can you tell me the specifics of the task?”

“I can’t risk putting our partners in danger.”

Sergei glanced toward the tall building and lowered his voice: “King Insect.”

Seeing Chris’s expression harden, Sergei clapped his shoulder.

“Don’t worry—it’s just hatched, no offspring yet. We’ve been wearing it down with other weapons for some time. You’ll be able to return home soon. We value S-class assets highly. Just a few more days…”

Sergei paused. “In any case, we’re negotiating with the District Chief. He’s promised to dispatch troops to assist with cleanup.”

The District Chief is the trash planet’s highest authority. Though divided into five districts, the planet has only one District Chief.

Chris glanced back, lowered his voice, and handed Sergei a heavy metal ingot. “High conductivity for psychic energy. Try it.”

This metal has always held immense value—functioning as hard currency here.

Sergei pocketed it, understanding Chris’s implication. “The news is sealed. Don’t leak it. We only know a bit because we’re handling it.”

“Grath issued warnings to all nations long ago. This year’s King Insect count at the Insect Tide front is off—some are missing. These days will be tough. We must also prepare for King Insects here. Don’t let the news out. Information is tightly controlled—even if you speak, no one will believe you.”

Chris glanced sideways at Katia—someone had already moved forward to begin fitting him with equipment. Ye Mo and Ji Ting stood beside him.

Sergei nudged Chris's arm. "Feel better now? At a time like this, we wouldn’t risk an S-class. Our people will go in to assist him. Who knows if the military is reliable. You guys should stock up too."

No one knew how this Insect Tide would unfold. If anything happened, those people could just retreat—they had somewhere to go. They had nowhere to run.

Even if they were safe here, if the nation the garbage planet belonged to couldn't handle it, they'd pull their forces stationed outside back.

Chris and Sergei were still talking.

On the other side, Katia had finished gearing up. He wore knee pads and wrist guards.

Someone carefully brought a box from the hovercar. When opened, it revealed a sword.

Ji Ting placed a hand on Ye Mo’s shoulder. Ye Mo, who had been watching Chris, turned to look at Ji Ting. Ji Ting gestured subtly with his eyes toward Sergei, his lips barely moving. "Don’t even think about it. He only seems easygoing—he won’t pay you any mind."

Then he straightened up and added, "Is this for him?"

"No, just borrowing it for now."

Standing nearby, Ye Mo also withdrew his gaze and looked at the sword.

Ye Mo’s right-hand fingers subconsciously curled, making a gripping motion.

Katia picked up the sword. He tested it with a few swings to check its balance, then followed a team carrying machine guns and heavy weapons into the building.

Ye Mo’s gaze fixed on the building, finally settling on one corner. There was a King Insect. It was strange, but he somehow just knew.

Katia and the others emerged two hours later.

Katia tossed the sword onto their vehicle. His clothes were stained with some unknown slime, and he frowned in disgust. "Let’s go back."

…

Grath swept through the Rift Valley front at top speed and began to withdraw. Simultaneously, they started intercepting and forcibly searching any starships they encountered.

The first batch of detained starships had been thoroughly searched, and some had already been released. This was now another batch.

Grath forced them all to dock in an open landing zone and began conducting searches.

Rows of starships were neatly parked in the open, surrounded by Grath’s military. Soldiers methodically searched each one in turn.

Most quieted down after learning that cooperation meant they could leave, though occasional disturbances still occurred.

A man shouted, "We’re from the media! We came to report on Grath’s bravery, not this high-handed behavior. Save your bravery for the bugs!"

Soon, two soldiers approached, roughly grabbing his shoulders and pinning him down. "Keep quiet!"

But he kept shouting, "We haven’t committed any crime! Why a forced search? If you have the guts, let us film this! You afraid we'll report it?"

The man suddenly realized the surroundings had fallen eerily silent. Not far away, footsteps echoed, neither too heavy nor too light.

He strained to turn his head and saw a group walking from right to left, passing by. At the front was Norton. From his low angle, he could only see Norton’s boots, cloak, and chin.

Norton paused briefly near him. "Carry on."

The soldiers on-site responded and resumed their actions.

Norton continued forward.

The man, unwilling to give up, mustered his courage. "Your Majesty, I believe you are a wise ruler, and I am certain of Grath’s bravery and strength. But why can’t such strength be directed toward the insectoids?"

Norton tilted his head slightly. "Why do you think you can set foot in the Rift Valley front?"

The man was speechless—because Grath had firmly held and completely cleared the rift valley.

Everyone knew that tracking Grath’s front was the safest assignment when reporting on the Insect Tide.

Norton moved on, and this time, no one dared make a sound.

The soldiers quickly secured the man and resumed the interrupted search. They didn't search him early just because he'd caused trouble.

The man waited until it was his turn. Only after his starship was searched did Grath’s soldiers release him.

Grath’s military was as stern and efficient as the monarch they followed. They didn’t waste a single word, offered no explanations, and aside from restraining him, subjected him to no other rough treatment—like machines, devoid of emotion.

After being released, the man realized their footage hadn’t been destroyed. The whole team exchanged glances. The man took a deep breath and smiled bitterly. "So this is Grath? Such arrogance."

He paused, then changed the word. "No, pride."