Instead of standing up immediately upon landing, Ye Muo quickly flipped over, supporting himself on his knees. He crouched low like a large cat, scanning his surroundings as he tried to get his bearings.
The others didn’t give him much time to do so. Three of the military academy instructors closed in on him from different directions with practiced coordination.
Perhaps out of caution, or perhaps because Ye Muo was unarmed and hadn’t reacted to their approach, they came to a halt once they reached a certain distance. They focused more on making sure he couldn’t run rather than immediately attacking.
They exchanged discreet looks with each other after surrounding Ye Muo.
A few of the military academy students followed suit, forming a ring just behind the instructors, effectively sealing off Ye Muo’s escape routes and creating an airtight perimeter.
The crowd was beginning to settle down from the initial panic. They felt reassured enough by the instructors and students’ actions to stay put. The clearing that had opened up when Ye Muo first landed began to close in as people started whispering.
“He doesn’t look that old. Where did he come from? And what’s that painted on his face? What’s going on?”
“I have no idea. It looks like coordinates based on the format, but since when were galactic pirates this young..?”
“It was pretty stupid of him to charge straight into a crowd, though. He’s basically offering himself up on a platter.”
“Most of those military academy instructors are veterans, right? Who would’ve thought that additional military merit would just deliver itself right to their doorstep after their retirement.”
Theodore held Ye Muo close and watched the onlookers with a cold, detached gaze. He wasn’t worried in the slightest. What these people failed to understand was that they were facing off against a Grantz.
The enemies of the Grantz have never been mere humans. Even Norton wouldn’t mind if his cub went off to play with rabbits.
Ye Muo waited for a moment. Then, as if he had confirmed something, he slowly stood up and straightened his back.
A ripple ran through the crowd in response. One of the reporters almost instinctively reared back, but he ultimately remained still.
The camera crew behind him subconsciously aimed the camera at Ye Muo. There was a faint tremor in the cameraman’s voice as he whispered, “Keep filming…this is firsthand information. Everyone’s watching our coverage…”
That was indeed the case. Almost the entire galactic network was tuned in right now.
[What’s that on his face? I can’t make it out now that he’s turned to the side.]
[I found a clearer image. Someone, go look this up for me, stat.]
[This little galactic pirate’s actually kind of cute. There’s still no info on him? That doesn’t seem right.]
[Looking at this little assailant…no, I don’t think that word suits him at all for some reason.]
Ye Muo remained still. Once he confirmed that no one was going to attack, his gaze drifted past the crowd to survey his surroundings. He was surrounded by clean, orderly buildings. Flocks of pigeons even soared above the square. This place already bore a striking resemblance to residential planets thousands of years in the future.
He blinked. It was hard to reconcile this sight after having grown accustomed to Old Grantz. Nonetheless, Ye Muo soon withdrew his gaze and looked directly into the camera.
The discussions on the galactic network came to a brief standstill.
They watched through the lens as the child who had been staring at the sky turned back. As he looked over, his gaze seemed to pierce through the screen and into the very souls of the viewers.
Even the cameraman instinctively widened his eyes.
Ye Muo stood in front of the group, watching them in return. “Can many people see me right now?”
“Yes,” the reporter at the forefront answered.
Ye Muo tucked his hair back. “Then, can you make sure that they can all see the coordinates on my cheek?”
Instead of obliging, the reporter asked, “What are those coordinates for? Are you a galactic pirate? What is your motive for coming here?”
One of the instructors stirred and glanced at his two compatriots. Yet for some reason, they didn’t intervene in the end.
Ye Muo finished gathering his hair back. He bared his cheek so everyone could see the awkward numbers scrawled there. The instructors, who were the closest, recognized the characteristics of dried blood at once.
“These coordinates lead to my homeland. A place that had been forgotten for far too long.”
He paused before answering the final question, “I’m not a galactic pirate. We don’t like them either. Back when many of them used to come to my homeland, we would behead the ones we caught and hang them from the towers.”
The number of discussions online and offline surged abruptly.
Ye Muo could hear the crowd whispering even from where he stood.
He wasn’t lying. According to Grantz records, Old Grantz had been erased from public view and did not exist on any official level, meaning galactic pirates were free to pillage and steal to their hearts content without fear of persecution. Therefore, the people of Old Grantz had no choice but to retaliate with the most effective means of deterrent.
[? These coordinates aren’t in any of the official star charts. Could they be wrong? They actually point to the epicenter of the frontlines. Logically speaking, every habitable planet should be recorded.]
[No, they’re correct. There is a planet out there if you consult a scientific planetary distribution hologram. I suspect it was too remote to be included in the database. Still, it’s in quite the unfortunate spot. It’s a miracle that people can even survive out there.]
[Well, they’re there by choice. Those natives near the frontlines refuse to leave and there isn’t anything anyone can do about it. We’ve even cleared out some inhabited planets for them to apply to, but they just won’t budge. If anything, they’re costing us a fortune in taxes every year by staying out there. This is probably some sort of publicity stunt because they think the current subsidies aren’t high enough.]
[@Previous Poster Hey, have some common sense. This isn’t a matter of whether they want to move or not. Is it even possible for humans to survive out there?]
Ye Muo stood there all on his lonesome.
The reporter followed up, “Then why did your people attack this place?”
As soon as those words fell, one of the instructors burst into motion, reaching for Ye Muo’s shoulder. The other two closed in as well.
Ye Muo moved almost on instinct. He grasped the man by the elbow, then by the neck, pouncing on him like a lion would its prey and slamming him to the ground.
The instructor’s eyes barely had time to widen in shock before Ye Muo snapped his tibia and fibula to incapacitate him at once. A chill of fear ran down the man’s spine as he was pinned by the back of his neck.
Fortunately, Ye Muo ended up just slamming his head into the ground.
He promptly dealt with the other two instructors as well.
It was over in the blink of an eye. Ye Muo had taken them all out by the time gasps came from the crowd.
The students standing behind the instructors were about to move in until Ye Muo flashed his dagger. Like a large cat, he crouched there with one knee down, his blade aimed at the back of one of the instructors, right above their spine.
“Could you please listen to what I have to say? I don’t like violence, and I don’t want to hurt anyone. I just need a few more moments of your time.”
Ye Muo peered into the camera. His frame appeared even smaller now that there were three adults lying at his feet. Despite coming out on top and with a dagger in hand, he looked troubled, almost pitiful as he pleaded, “Please keep filming me.”
Ye Muo pointed to the coordinates on his cheek and spoke faster, “Our planet is here. For many years, we’ve been trapped there and prevented from leaving that inhospitable place. Our only objective for attacking you is to be able to leave that place.”
The reporters looked shocked like they couldn’t understand what he was saying. “Wait, what do you mean? Who’s preventing you from leaving?”
[What year is it? Places like that still exist? There are still planets where you’re not allowed to leave?]
[And a planet that’s firmly in the center of the frontlines this whole time at that. There’s no question, it’s definitely no longer habitable. Also, is no one else concerned over how easily he took down three instructors? With that level of physical ability, I wonder what his psychic power level is.]
[This has to be staged, right? In this day and age, how can such a place exist without being exposed online? On the other hand, this kid’s skills are definitely impressive. He could definitely immigrate to a central planet if he applied.]
[He looks so scruffy and pitiful…I kind of want to adopt him.]
[? Stop dreaming, okay? Get in line like the rest of us. He clearly has a certain level of psychic power if he’s able to take down military academy instructors so quickly. Even if he’s from a remote planet or is, heaven forbid, a galactic pirate, he’s a shoe-in for any military academy as long as he behaves himself from now on. Even if he agreed to the adoption, the academies would never.]
The sound of artillery fire echoed from the nearby urban area. Several flares soon shot into the air.
That was the signal Ambrose and the other agreed on. It meant that their comrades in the city had already started sieging other districts.
Ye Muo continued as he glanced that way, “In any case, we are not attacking to take lives. Please do not resist. We will not harm those who do not fight back.”
With that, he stood up and gripped his dagger in a reverse hold. Channeling his psychic power into the blade, he carved a long, precise fissure into the stone tiles, stopping exactly at the feet of those at the forefront of the crowd.
People shrieked and quickly backed away from the area.
Ye Muo bolted forward like a lithe little leopard, his silhouette quickly vanishing into the steel jungle.
The reporter let out a startled cry before shouting, “Send the camera drone after him!”
The camera drone was having a hard time keeping up.
Ye Muo was incredibly fast and unpredictable, constantly scaling buildings and vaulting over obstacles as he made a beeline towards the direction of the flares.
The drone only managed to catch up because he paused briefly on the windowsill of a high-rise to check he was on the right course.
Ye Muo glanced at the little ‘tail’ behind him. After a beat of hesitation, he decided to ignore it. He leaped from the windowsill once more and darted through the streets, spotting many of his comrades along the way.
All of them were converging on the location of the flares.
