Chapter 437

Chapter 437

Elijah moved to stand right beside Karlia, keeping him in his line of sight.

Next came Alan and Sadel, who were practically shoved and slammed against the wall.

Elijah glanced at them, then his gaze returned to Karlia, whose right shoulder was pinned by a soldier. Now he didn't look so composed anymore—things had spiraled out of his control.

Alan wanted to ask if he could get a chair too, but wisely kept his mouth shut. Still, being out of the spotlight and tucked into this corner was a relief—it felt genuinely safe here, enough to give him the nerve to study the man on the high platform, with Ye Mo standing beside him.

He still couldn't figure out what they really were to each other.

But building Ye Mo up and putting disrespectful people in their place—that's how you treat an heir. With their matching black hair and dark eyes, were they father and son?

But that still left the question: was this organization even stable?

Alan frowned, wondering why he was even thinking about this.

Since the Insect Tide hadn't been stopped right at the start, a long, grinding war of attrition was basically inevitable. This place was too close to "there" and too far from the main defensive lines—it was doomed to fall to the Insect Tide. And they couldn't push deeper into the swarm, and they couldn't fall back to the heavily guarded rear either.

Stateless refugees weren't welcome in any nation, unless they had extraordinary talents and real value, but even then, being accepted meant willingly putting your neck in a collar.

Either way, this organization wouldn't last, so the Leader didn't matter.

Since they'd captured Karlia, as long as they survived the Insect Tide, they had a good shot at negotiating their way into Tansan. If they returned Karlia in one piece, Tansan wouldn't shoot itself in the foot by coming after them.

Only a fool would renege—unless Tansan didn't care that any pirate who captured Tansan citizens in the future would just kill them on the spot.

Their future was clear.

This was lucky—the kind of ticket every space pirate drifting through the cosmos dreamed of.

Alan thought this instinctively, then frowned as Ye Mo's leaping form flashed through his mind—like a fierce, beautiful beast born only to kill.

Tansan was pretty lucky to get him—no, to get all of them.

If only his own country had gotten to them first... well, forget it. He should focus on surviving the Insect Tide and the chaos first.

But with Karlia here, they probably wouldn't run into real trouble.

The next question was how Tansan would negotiate with these people. It wouldn't take long to decide—hold their ground and die in the Insect Tide while fending off Tansan's chasing fleet, or retreat and join the human camp with its safe zones.

Only an idiot wouldn't know which to pick.

Alan glanced at Karlia ahead of him. He seemed to have reached the same conclusion, his body relaxing a bit.

His gaze then drifted past Karlia's shoulder to Ye Mo up on the platform.

Karlia's back and Ye Mo's profile on the platform seemed to overlap in his view.

Now one stood by the Leader, the center of attention, while the other was stuck here in disgrace. But soon, these two young men would trade places.

He almost felt a flicker of pity for Ye Mo.

The next second, Ye Mo tilted his head and looked straight at him—his gaze like a blade, cutting through Alan in an instant. The instant their eyes met, Alan's mind went completely blank.

He froze, aware only that he was being watched, locked in this staring contest. The distance felt impossibly far and yet so close—close enough to see a fleck of dark red splattered at the corner of Ye Mo's eye.

Only when Ye Mo looked away did Alan remember to breathe.

The eye contact was brief, barely noticeable, but it jolted Alan awake, hitting him with the raw feeling of being alive. From the lingering sting on his back to the rust-tinged air, everything felt sharper.

This wasn't good.

He'd been watching a young lion, wondering about its fate.

As a spectator, he'd admired its graceful form while it ignored him, walking its own path. It wouldn't even notice him standing nearby as it moved forward—like two parallel lines. He'd long gotten used to watching it like a movie.

But when it passed by him again, it lifted its head, glanced at him, and its tail whipped hard against his leg, snapping him back to reality.

And only then did he realize he'd followed it into a savage hunting ground.

The nearly empty hall soon filled with a dozen or so soldiers and technicians—no swords or guns, just toolkits on their backs.

Following the earlier plan, they got to work setting up the main brain in the hall. The new main brain would reconnect the whole planet, control everything on it, and serve as the only channel for outside communication.

Holographic screens lit up along both sides of the hall, each showing a different part of the planet.

Elijah had already drifted over, unable to resist. He scanned each screen, quickly confirming the planet's status, his mind already mapping out plans for rebuilding.

As they worked, messengers strode in one after another and dropped to one knee without hesitation. "All insectoids are cleared."

Another followed immediately, "Two fleet formations are under our control. The advance force can move out anytime."

Ambrose looked over at Yisang beside him.

Yisang dropped to one knee first, eyes locked on Ambrose. Lika and Caspar caught on and followed, and finally the unhurried Fiona.

"No need to rush. Reorganize the fleet into five divisions. Call Shalom—each of you takes a planet."

Elijah frowned, worried. "Five separate fronts? Isn't that too risky? We could take them one at a time. This place was just—"

Yisang cut him off. "Wait until the insectoids eat up all the resources that were just sitting there for us? I can handle it, brother. I'll take more than one planet—grab the prettiest one."

As he spoke, he shot another quick glance at Ye Mo, then got up and left first.

Lika and Caspar looked to Fiona first. She clicked her tongue. "He's been really disrespectful lately."

Only when she moved did Lika and Caspar exchange a look and follow.

Ye Mo stepped forward, a little reluctant. "What about me?"

Ambrose sighed, tilted his head, propped his arm up, and tapped his temple with his fingers, looking at Ye Mo. "You have a task too, my child. You'll stay here with me. Not bad, right?"

Ye Mo hesitated.

Ambrose figured he wasn't happy with that and thought it over. "Or you could help Elijah."

He tilted his chin toward Elijah.

Elijah, busy checking the main brain's permissions, looked up uncertainly. "I'm about to take Ye Wang to pry some mouths open."

Theodore, who'd been grooming Ye Mo's hair from his shoulder, stopped and objected. "Teaching him torture at this age is way too early."

Ambrose also looked stumped.

It really was cruel to keep a Grath cooped up in one place, especially next to a Grath older than him.

But the only entertainment he could think of was hunting insectoids—or maybe a brawl? Lika and Caspar were always tumbling around like two kittens, which burned off plenty of excess energy.

Elijah, sprawled across part of the main brain, stared at the light screen and said, "If I could use the main brain to look at the star network, I think I could do it in a slightly less rough way. Ye Wang, bring them over. I've got a few questions."

Ye Wang nodded, grabbed Alan by the shoulder, and pulled him forward, "Behave. I'd rather not spill blood here—yours or your buddy's."

Alan felt like his bones were about to be crushed; he managed a strained smile, "I get it. I never said I wouldn't cooperate. I'll tell you everything."

As he spoke, Alva came over and brought Sadel out the same way.

The light screen in front of Elijah was packed with data, and Alan and Sadel were brought over to him.

Elijah looked at the screen, "So, if I say a strong person with black hair and black eyes, who's the first one you think of?"

Alan hesitated, glancing at Ye Mo.

Elijah cut him off fast, "Not him. Exclude everyone you've seen here."

The hall went quiet.

"It'd be Carrick."

Elijah turned to Sadel, who nodded, "Same answer. Pure black hair and black eyes are pretty rare."

"What's the surname?"

"Pope."

"Does he have children? Have any shown exceptional talents? What do they do?"

"Three kids—one's a teacher, one's an actor, and the other's probably still in school."

"Alright, I understand."

Elijah paused, shot a quick glance at Ye Mo up on the platform, then stared at the light screen and went quiet.

The hall stayed quiet, but anyone could see Ye Mo was clearly down.

Ambrose sat up, breaking the silence, and kept his voice low, "Do you need a rest, Cyril?"

"Yeah, I want to sleep a bit."

Before Ambrose could say anything, he sat down against Ambrose's seat, rested his head on the armrest, and closed his eyes.

After a moment, he adjusted his position, leaning his head onto Ambrose's knee.

It was more comfortable than the armrest, but different from his father's—Ambrose's combat uniform was rougher, and unlike his mother's embrace, which was softer.

With his eyes closed, he turned his head, burying his face, pressing his forehead and eyes against Ambrose's knee, just like before when he leaned against Norton, hiding under his father's cloak, falling asleep peacefully.