Chapter 428

Chapter 428

In the square, the crowd surged toward the exit like a tide, several teachers shouting desperately through the chaos, telling their students not to get separated.

But before long, the tide of people rushing toward the exit quickly turned back, their faces filled with terror.

The teachers' expressions turned grim too. It was the bug race.

One bug creature poked half its body in first, then instinctively lashed its tail stinger at the crowd, easily knocking down a swath of people and drawing a chorus of screams. It paused for a moment, as if puzzled.

But it didn't dwell on it. It moved again, unhesitatingly biting into one of the fallen, burying its head and starting to feed.

Too many people had gathered here—the bug creatures had likely made a beeline for this spot.

The area that had been packed with people quickly cleared into a wide open space, where only the feeding bug creature remained, along with those who had fallen near it. Some lay there silently, whether unconscious or dead was unclear, but most were still alive—some clutching their legs and wailing, others shaking it off after a moment and scrambling to their feet, hurrying toward the crowd.

The media reporters had gone numb, melting into the crowd, at a loss for words. The cameramen were equally silent, operating their cameras on autopilot. The live feed to the Star Network never cut out, chaotic images continuously broadcasting outward.

[Can anyone drag some of those people back? I see some who are farther away.]

[I see people helping.]

[Probably can't pull them back. There are no warships now, no way to fight back. If it weren't for those space pirates, we wouldn't have so few warships—we'd have started attacking by now.]

[I can't watch this. How is this even allowed to be broadcast? There's no age restriction here.]

Several military academy teachers and students stopped at the edge of the crowd, dragging back a few who were closer. A few students set people down and were about to head back when their teacher stopped them. The teacher held up a gun, aiming toward the area, as if afraid of startling something, and said in a hushed voice, "Fall back."

They retreated slowly, and the crowd went quiet as well. The square grew so quiet it was almost terrifying.

From the entrance, more bug creatures came in. They moved at a leisurely pace, and upon seeing the crowd, they didn't immediately pounce—they paused, then advanced slowly, as if testing the waters.

Some were drawn to the bodies lying on the ground, stopping to feed, but more stepped past their own kind and began closing in on the crowd.

Those in front who had weapons didn't retreat. They opened fire at the lead bug creature, but it only paused briefly. The frontmost one turned, presenting its dorsal armor to them as a shield for the entire group, then began backing toward them.

There was still a considerable distance, but the crowd never stopped retreating, until they were backed into a corner, bunched up together.

Someone started sobbing quietly.

Someone shouted, "Climb over the wall!" But that quickly fizzled out too.

Behind this square lay the docking area and the ground-level part of the port. The entrance to the docking area was now sealed, and the walls were too high for ordinary people to scale. The few who could actually climb it were now mostly at the very front of the crowd.

Suddenly, a voice drifted down from above. "Found them! They're here! Everyone, get over here—notify Lady Fiona."

The crowd looked up in unison, even the cameramen. A head had somehow popped up atop the wall behind them. After shouting, it ducked back down.

Then, from behind the wall, a figure leaped out, landing on a small building near the wall, then using it to spring onto the wall itself, moving swiftly along the top of the wall. Despite the narrow width, she moved as if it were flat ground, twin blades in hand. As she neared the exit, she launched herself downward, even kicking off the wall behind her mid-flight, plunging into the swarm of bugs like a cannonball.

As she closed in, she twisted her torso, using her core strength to spin and slice one bug creature clean in half at the waist with her twin blades.

When she landed, all you could see was flying debris and dust. When the figure came into view again, it was like a dance among the bugs—twin blades flashing, massive creatures toppling one after another.

The sequence was almost nonstop. Alone, she was driving the entire gathered swarm slowly backward.

[Holy shit, is that even human? Or did someone evolve without telling me?]

[Some kind of robot, maybe?]

[What robot can use Psychic Blades? Look at the ground—every slash is a Psychic Blade. Cold steel alone wouldn't be enough.]

[Who's that wasteful, sending someone of that psychic level in with just two swords to fight bugs?]

[I'm a noob—I just want to know, is this the usual level for top-tier experts?]

While the Star Network was still buzzing, more people emerged from behind the wall. Their arrival was a lot more low-key—they leaped down from the wall.

Some went to help hunt the bugs, while others circled the crowd, like sheepdogs guarding a flock.

They warned, "Stay right here. Behave yourselves."

[Damn, that's fierce—charging in with just blades.]

[If space pirates are all like this, I think paying protection money might not be a bad idea.]

[I've got this feeling they're clearing out the annoying bugs first so they can rob us, and somehow that's oddly reassuring.]

[Pirates or not, they don't seem like space pirates. Look at their clothes—they look like donated action suits, aid supplies for local residents. The style's similar, but since they're from different organizations and companies, there are slight differences. I can see our company's logo.]

...

The alley was dead quiet.

Alva leaped down from the bug corpse, glanced at the few people in the alley, then turned and kicked aside the noticeably smaller bug, clearing the path.

After clearing the way, he took two steps back and returned to a position slightly behind and beside Ye Mo. "Let's go. To the port."

As he said this, he tilted his head slightly and said to the people in the alley, "Follow. You're the prisoners."

Even as he spoke, though his head was turned, his gaze never once met theirs.

Sadel and Alan exchanged a look and followed. Once they moved, the others carefully stepped around the bug bodies on the ground and fell in behind them.

Alan deliberately slowed his pace, dropping to the rear. Sadel matched him without a word and asked in a low voice, "What's wrong?"

Alan replied in an even lower voice, "That man—I think I've seen him before."

Sadel didn't respond, keeping his eyes down, waiting for Alan to continue.

Alan's eyes passed over the people ahead, fixed on Alva in front, and he whispered, "I saw him in the capital. I've forgotten his name, but I remember his face. At Westar Palace, he stood on the viewing platform. When the ceremony ended and he came down, my sister shoved me over, saying he was close to my age and I should go make friends with him, told me to show him around. He was surrounded by people, so I didn't go over."

He'd been at his most rebellious then, hating his family's arrangements. The moment he heard it, he assumed it was about currying favor with someone—some rich kid who'd be insufferable, and he instinctively disliked it.

Even in rebellion, Alan was rationally rebellious. He didn't dare defy his sister outright, and his brother stood nearby, silently urging him on. So he went over, hovered at the edge of the crowd, and coasted through the whole thing with perfunctory politeness—a smooth, calculated defiance.

But that glimpse had left a deep impression.

Beside him, Sadel slowly furrowed his brow. Westar Palace was the Parliament building—the political heart of the entire nation. It was only activated for major events, and those were either National Day or military parades.

To attend, let alone stand on the viewing platform, meant you were someone of real standing. Alan's family had been in politics for generations, with several older siblings in Parliament, yet Alan himself had never set foot on that platform—only stood below.

Sadel raised his eyes, looking ahead, and saw only a straight-backed figure, like a guard, walking at a position slightly behind and beside Ye Mo.

The man didn't seem particularly old. If he'd truly stood on Westar Palace's viewing platform, he must have an extraordinary background.

So how did someone like that end up in the Rift?

Alan's eyes were fixed ahead, naturally noticing the subtle dynamic too. He murmured, "Probably just misread it."

Otherwise, he really couldn't explain what was going on—why someone who stood on the viewing platform would show up in a place like that: a planet that didn't even have a name—the front line when the Insect Tide hit.

Ye Mo's steps faltered almost imperceptibly. He tilted his head slightly, his gaze cutting through the crowd to glance at Alan, then pulled back.

Alva caught the movement and leaned in a little. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

Alva didn't press further, just said, "If you need anything, just say the word."

He didn't lower his voice when he spoke; the volume was normal, and Alan behind them furrowed his brow again—the voice sounded kind of familiar too.

They weren't far from the docking area, so they got there fast.

The plaza by the docking area was already a mess, people packed together.

The entrance was guarded by a bunch of armed people. Ye Mo took one look at their gear and knew they were his own people.

The other side recognized Alva too. The leader gave him a nod, got nothing back, and didn't seem to care, then turned his gaze to Ye Mo.

Alva, who hardly ever talked, said, "Our Little Grans."

The leader pushed up his goggles, surprised, and looked down at Ye Mo, then gave him a solemn salute and reported, "Lady Fiona was just here, but she's gone now. We've rounded up a good number of people, and most of the port's still intact. Once the passage is fixed, we can ship these people out. Then this place is ours."

Sadel and Alan both stared at the scene, a little blown away. Even if Ye Mo was crazy capable, it was hard to believe a kid that young had that kind of rank in the squad, and the guy's tone was almost way too formal.

Ye Mo just hummed, looking just as used to it. He was a Grath; whenever he wasn't with Norton, people always treated him like this—dead serious, looking at him as their Leader. He was also used to being the one out front.

He instructed seriously, "Then we gotta be more careful from here on. The more people pile up, the more the bugs'll sniff 'em out and come."

The guy being told this answered just as seriously, "Understood. We're notifying others to head this way. Lord Shalom's at the inner dock. You wanna head over?"

"No need. He stays put; I'll keep an eye on things here."

The leader acknowledged with a "yes" and added, "Want me to take the cat? I'll stash it somewhere safe and make sure it's looked after."

"No need. Theodore is very smart."

It was Alva who cut in. "Let's head inside."

The latter half of the sentence was directed at Ye Mo, and with that, he nudged Ye Mo forward.

The leader stayed put, watching Ye Mo go, then glanced at Sadel and the others, waved a hand, and followed. "Bring 'em along too."

He then had a few guys herd Sadel and Alan toward the plaza like sheep, pushing them into the crowd already gathered there.

The crowd quieted for a moment as they approached, but the noise gradually rose again once the guards came over.

Alva scanned the crowd, his gaze settling on one person carrying filming equipment.

He looked at a young man following behind him and signaled with his eyes. "That one—why hasn't it been confiscated?"

The young man scratched his head. "What is that? A weapon? The boss said if it's not a weapon, let them keep it for fun. We're not those picky pirates who take everything."

The young man even vividly mimicked the leader's tone and expression, raising his brows and scrunching his nose like a puppy trying to act fierce, then returned to normal and asked curiously, "What is that thing? A weapon?"

"No."

The young man gave an "oh" and left it at that.

Alva found it dull as well and didn't bring it up again. He should have known long ago—these people only knew three things: eating, killing insectoids, and Grans. Even if they knew what that thing was, they probably wouldn't care.