The restored data grew exponentially, to the point where even Bai Yi could not fathom exactly how much information Jing Xi held.

“Shall we send someone to assassinate them directly?” the butler asked.

It wasn’t that they hadn’t tried before, but all attempts had ended in failure.

Currently, Jing Xi and the Flying Dragon main force were at Planet 820, along with Chi Yao and the people from Extreme Shadow.

Unless they could separate the personnel, it would be difficult to find an opportunity to strike.

“Or perhaps, dismantle them from the inside?” the butler probed. “For example, drive a wedge between Jing Xi and Chi Yao?”

These two had been fighting and killing each other for years; surely there were many existing conflicts. It should be very easy to provoke discord.

As long as they waited for the other side to make a move, their people could exploit the opening.

Bai Yi’s face was dark. “Those are not the main points.”

His biggest worry right now wasn’t that he couldn’t kill them, but rather the data they possessed.

Thinking back now, although Jing Xi hadn’t shown any abnormality towards him during the last few meetings, it inexplicably gave him a bad feeling.

From the moment Bo Jin’s name appeared in the data, they had likely already aimed their sights at him.

“Then what do you mean, sir?” the butler asked.

Bai Yi narrowed his eyes. “Strike first.”

Two days later, at the high-level meeting.

Jing Xi reported the current investigation progress and data restoration status as usual.

“Is there any information regarding Bo Jin?” Bai Yi asked.

Jing Xi looked at him and shook his head. “None found so far.”

Bai Yi frowned, sighing lightly after a long while.

Pei Zhenyue, sitting to his right, patted his shoulder upon seeing this. “We all believe that Bo Jin wouldn’t do anything detrimental to the military. Don’t put too much pressure on yourself.”

Bai Yi shook his head helplessly. “These days, as soon as I close my eyes, I dream of him. If he really was a ghost planted in the military by some illegal organization, then I, as his master, cannot escape the blame.”

Jing Xi’s gaze swept over him, and he said impassively, “Setting aside what kind of person Major General Bo was, based on what the military currently knows, all his actions showed no abnormalities. Before further evidence emerges, we should give sufficient respect and trust to the soldiers who sacrificed themselves on the front lines.”

Although his tone wasn’t strong, the accusation and sarcasm in his words were clearly heard.

Bai Yi looked over, his expression nearly losing control. “Naturally, I believe him too.”

Hanging up the communication, Chi Yao’s laughter came from beside his ear. Just as Jing Xi turned his head, he felt the other person leaning over, resting an arm on his shoulder.

“When that mouth of yours bullies people, it really has a way,” Chi Yao laughed.

Jing Xi: “I only spoke the truth.”

Chi Yao nodded deliberately. “The truth that can anger people to death.”

Jing Xi huffed lightly, not denying it.

He casually opened the holographic map to check the current situation.

25% of the marker points had been resolved. Once it exceeded 30%, the organization’s internal operating system would have problems. Over 50%, and the external circulation system would collapse. By then, they wouldn’t need to look for excuses; they could just find any entry point and follow the vine to the melon, uprooting the entire Amusement Park network.

Chi Yao: “Bai Yi is already anxious.”

Jing Xi: “Be careful when going out during this time. They might try to assassinate us again.”

Chi Yao scoffed. “I’m just afraid he won’t come.”

Jing Xi’s lips curved up. “I’m afraid you won’t be able to control yourself and will kill too many. If Lieutenant General Zhuo reports it, your prison sentence will get longer.”

Chi Yao: “Doesn’t matter.”

Anyway, going to prison was impossible.

“It matters to me.” Jing Xi held the back of his neck and kissed him. “I want to marry you and bring you home sooner.”

Chi Yao chuckled low. “Then I’ll work hard?”

When Lin Chengde entered the conference room, he saw the two of them acting clingy and instantly felt uncomfortable.

“Ahem!”

Chi Yao looked up, impatient. “Do you know how to read the room?”

He hadn’t even said anything about slacking off during work hours, yet he was the one getting scolded.

Lin Chengde slammed his small notebook on the table. “If you don’t sit properly, everyone will write a two-thousand-word self-reflection!”

Chi Yao sneered and said to Jing Xi, “We don’t need to pay attention to him.”

Jing Xi nodded, expressing agreement.

Lin Chengde: “…”

Soon, Zhuo Lin, Qiu Shuang, and others arrived one after another. The key generals of the Dark Division participated in the meeting via holographic projection.

After Lin Chengde had everyone report on their work, he looked at the group and said, “Current progress is very good, but do not relax your vigilance. The opponent may counterattack at any time.”

Chi Yao’s gaze swept over the Dark Division generals in the opposite seats. “Any movement from mutated beasts?”

Their ranks were very high, but given Chi Yao’s special status in the Dark Division, their attitudes toward him were very respectful.

“None found so far.”

“My point is in a populated area; no mutated beast activity.”

“Mine is on a mining planet. Beast activity is normal currently, within controllable limits.”

“No abnormal activity found.”

Chi Yao frowned slightly.

Could his line of thinking be wrong?

After the meeting ended, Jing Xi went to handle daily military affairs, while Chi Yao went to the detention cabin.

Xu Zhou and Liu Sichen had been locked up for a month or two. Eating and sleeping every day, they had become fair and chubby, and their dark circles were gone.

When Chi Yao arrived, the two were locked in the temporary waiting area, gnawing on drumsticks and chatting across the iron bars, looking overly happy.

“You two really know how to enjoy yourselves.”

Chi Yao casually found a seat and sat down, facing them. “Since you’re so free, shall we chat?”

The smiles on Xu Zhou and Liu Sichen’s faces froze, and the drumsticks suddenly lost their flavor.

“The Lost Alliance, is that the name?”

Chi Yao looked at Liu Sichen. “What does your organization mainly do?”

Liu Sichen’s brow twitched. He hesitated for a moment and said, “Just the literal meaning, looking for people…”

“Looking for people requires infiltrating an organization and becoming a researcher?” Chi Yao smiled. “Is the undercover market this competitive now?”

Liu Sichen swallowed nervously.

“Not, not really, it’s just that I happen to study medicine—”

As he spoke, he gradually felt guilty.

Chi Yao looked at Xu Zhou.

“And you? Infiltrating the military was also to find people?”

Xu Zhou nodded stiffly.

Chi Yao nodded deliberately. “So when the military recruits, they just grab people randomly to enlist. How savage.”

Xu Zhou: “…”

Chi Yao took out two syringes from his pocket and shook them in front of them.

“This, do you know what it is?”

Liu Sichen looked at the casing, and his expression changed.

“Laughing agent.”

It sounded harmless, but it was actually a poison. After injection, it caused uncontrollable laughter. Generally, it could be metabolized autonomously within three hours. A light dose wouldn’t be life-threatening, but laughing continuously for three hours basically left a person wrecked.

Chi Yao: “Good eye, worthy of a top medical student.”

Liu Sichen kept a wooden face: “…Thanks.”

Chi Yao: “Can we have a proper chat now?”

Xu Zhou glanced at the syringe in his hand and silently scooted back.

“We really don’t have any bad intentions.”

Chi Yao nodded. “Just stealing some military data and researching a little bit of modified bodies. Indeed, no bad intentions.”

Saying that, he made to pull off the needle cap.

“Wait!”

Liu Sichen spoke up to stop him. “We are just minions; we do whatever the higher-ups tell us to do.”

Chi Yao placed the syringe on the small table.

“What did they tell you to do? Let’s hear it.”

Liu Sichen: “…”

He and Xu Zhou looked at each other in dismay.

Chi Yao: “One by one. My wife doesn’t get off work for another two hours anyway, I’m very free.”

Xu Zhou/Liu Sichen: “…”

Please stop sprinkling dog food at every opportunity, can you act like a human being?!

Xu Zhou: “Since you know about our alliance, you should also know the origin of the organization.”

Chi Yao nodded. “Continue.”

Xu Zhou: “We collect commissions from the families of missing persons and use our own channels to help provide clues. Of course, these missing persons aren’t limited to that illegal modification organization, but indeed a large portion of people fall into that organization.”

At this point, Xu Zhou glanced at Chi Yao. Seeing no reaction, he continued, “Enlisting was my own choice; it’s just that with the Alliance’s commission, I had an extra layer of identity.”

Chi Yao: “You approached the commander-in-chief of the Cetus Garrison because the Alliance found problems in Cetus?”

Xu Zhou nodded stiffly.

“Our goal is to rescue the captured missing persons. Intelligence is very important, but the Alliance is just a civilian organization after all, and our strength is very limited—”

“No need to be so modest.”

Chi Yao scoffed, his gaze sweeping intentionally or unintentionally over Liu Sichen. “Being able to connect with the Dark Division line is proof enough of your strength.”

In half an hour, Xu Zhou and Liu Sichen said everything they could say.

This so-called Lost Alliance had members covering all walks of life, including many elites from various fields. They all shared a common point—they all had missing relatives or friends.

In some respects, their reconnaissance capabilities were even higher than the Dark Division’s.

After all, Dark Division investigations required disguised identities, while they could use their original identities as camouflage. Possessing normal interpersonal relationships allowed them to learn more about situations.

If this alliance were compared to eyes, then the Dark Division was the hands holding the knife.

Chi Yao: “Give me your boss’s contact information.”

Xu Zhou looked away. “I don’t have it.”

Liu Sichen: “I don’t have it either.”

Chi Yao opened his terminal and sent a message. A moment later, Liu Wu and Xu Ming walked in.

“What is it—” Noticing the people in the cage over there out of the corner of his eye, Liu Wu’s expression stiffened.

Chi Yao lifted his chin towards the cage. “These two have already confessed to the facts of their crimes. I think a ten or eight-year sentence won’t be a problem. You guys process the paperwork and send them on their way.”

Liu Wu/Xu Ming: “…”

Holy shit!

Liu Sichen endured and endured, then burst into tears with a ‘wah’.

“Dad, save me!”

Liu Wu: “…”

A moment later, Liu Sichen sniffled and recited a communication number.

Chi Yao was originally in a good mood, but after hearing this string of numbers, his expression changed slightly.

It wasn’t the first time he had heard this number.

He quickly returned to the rest cabin and dug out the business card he brought back from the inspection department. The numbers on it were exactly the same as the ones Liu Sichen reported.

“Zhang Sheng—”

Chi Yao was thoughtful.

If Liu Sichen didn’t lie, and Zhang Sheng was the boss of this civilian alliance, then his transaction with Ghost became intriguing.

Thinking back to the operation in 810, the sense of dissonance he had felt all along finally made sense.

Why that operation went so smoothly.

Zhang Sheng rushed to buy back the marked energy stones and quickly spread them out.

During their last meeting, the way Zhang Sheng hesitated to speak, his talk about Star Pirates, and this business card he gave.

All of this indicated that from the beginning, the other party intentionally wanted to cooperate with him.

Chi Yao thought for a long time, swiped open the terminal communication page, dialed this number, and sent a video request.

Almost without pause, the other side connected, as if he had been waiting for his contact for a long time.

On the screen was Zhang Sheng’s plain and ordinary face. If you plucked him out and threw him into a crowd, you’d probably never find him again. But because of his powerful, restrained aura, this face became much more pleasing to the eye.

Zhang Sheng: “Mr. Chi, long time no see.”

Chi Yao: “It hasn’t been that long.”

Zhang Sheng chuckled lightly. “You calling actively… it seems you already have some understanding of my identity?”

Chi Yao’s face was cold. “I hate people who scheme against me.”

Zhang Sheng’s smile didn’t diminish. “Then how about I send you a batch of equipment as an apology?”

Chi Yao’s face darkened. “Is one batch enough?”

Zhang Sheng: “…”

Chi Yao didn’t intend to chat idly with him and cut straight to the point.

“What intelligence do you have on hand?”

Zhang Sheng crossed his hands in front of him. “I have everything you want.”

Chi Yao scoffed. “Empty words, anyone can say them.”

He saw Zhang Sheng tap lightly on a virtual keyboard, and soon his terminal received a file.

“This is the list of institutions cooperating with Ghost,” Zhang Sheng said.

Chi Yao opened it casually and let Xiao Hei locate Planet 810. Soon, he found several companies they had targeted before.

The ore that Ghost snatched everywhere generally flowed through various underground casinos, illegal profit organizations, and amusement parks first, then was acquired and exported by mining intermediary companies large and small, completing a whole set of laundering processes.

Empty glove white wolf—making huge profits with nothing.

It could be considered sincere.

Chi Yao put away the list. “I have to have someone verify the authenticity of the list first.”

Zhang Sheng didn’t seem surprised by this result.

“Fine.”

Chi Yao: “What do you want to get from me?”

Cooperation couldn’t be a one-sided giving. The more generous the other party appeared, the heavier the weight of the things they wanted.

Zhang Sheng: “Mr. Chi doesn’t need to be so vigilant. Since you already understand our alliance, you should know that our ultimate goal is just to find the missing persons and send them home safely.”

Chi Yao looked directly at him. “Is that so?”

Zhang Sheng: “I hope that list can make you trust me more. After all, time is running out—”

Time is running out?

Chi Yao frowned.

Before he could speak, he heard Zhang Sheng say faintly, “It is coming soon.”

It again.

Chi Yao didn’t have the patience to play Tai Chi. “Who is It?”

But this time, Zhang Sheng didn’t intend to answer.

“Wait until you verify the list, then we will discuss this question.”

Chi Yao: “…”

Old fox.

He said a whole lot of this and that, but kept his mouth shut about the key point.

If he wanted to know the answer, he had to agree to cooperate.

Chi Yao: “Threatening me?”

Zhang Sheng: “Some things are inconvenient to reveal to people other than partners, that’s all.”

Chi Yao wanted to fish for more information, but the other party seemed to have no intention of chatting further.

Before hanging up, Chi Yao saw the other party glance at a corner of the office.

That seemed to be the location of a surveillance camera.

In the command cabin, Jing Xi was discussing reconstruction plans with several officers.

seeing Chi Yao enter out of the corner of his eye, he left behind a “discuss later” and went to welcome him.

“What did Xu Zhou and Liu Sichen say?” Jing Xi asked.

Chi Yao explained briefly and sent him the list Zhang Sheng gave.

“Backing it up for you. I’ll have the Dark Division verify it later.”

The number of companies and institutions on the list exceeded a thousand, including many large enterprises familiar to Jing Xi.

Chi Yao: “These are ‘intermediaries’, more valuable to monitor than downstream retail investors.”

Jing Xi’s face was solemn. “This much data isn’t something that can be collected in a day or two.”

“I know.”

Chi Yao pulled him to the rest area. “This alliance might have existed longer than the old man’s Dark Division.”

The predecessor of the Dark Division was the Special Investigation Group, a department independent from the military dedicated to secretly investigating various major cases.

Doing the most dangerous and tiring work, yet not receiving the treatment of ordinary soldiers. Even if they lost their lives in a mission, it couldn’t be made public.

Being transferred there basically meant no future prospects.

However, since Lin Chengde took over the Special Investigation Group, this situation gradually improved.

Over the past twenty years, the Special Investigation Group team continued to grow, developing from a marginal department into a Dark Division with a massive scale and strength comparable to the military headquarters.

Jing Xi frowned. “I think it’s necessary to investigate the background of this alliance.”

Developing among the civilians for so long, with eyes and ears in all walks of life, even the Dark Division needed to rely on their intelligence for actions in the early stages.

Perhaps the alliance’s search for people was real, but there was no guarantee they didn’t have other purposes.

Chi Yao was thoughtful. “Zhang Sheng also mentioned ‘It’.”

Jing Xi paused. “What is ‘It’?”

Chi Yao shook his head. “Stringing me along, just refusing to say.”

Before they could figure out who “It” was, Bai Yi’s call arrived first.

Chi Yao looked at the communication request on Jing Xi’s screen. “Can’t hold back anymore.”

Jing Xi: “What do you think he will say?”

“It definitely won’t be human language.” Chi Yao stood up.

Talking to Bai Yi, it was inconvenient for Chi Yao to appear in the camera; this was a tacit understanding between the two.

Jing Xi sat up straighter. Just as he was about to connect, Chi Yao, who had walked a few steps away, suddenly turned around, cupped his face, and kissed him.

“What do you want to eat for lunch? I’ll make it.”

Jing Xi’s appetite was just whetted when Chi Yao let go.

He licked the corner of his lips, somewhat dissatisfied. “Sweet and sour ribs.”

Chi Yao: “Can we do it without vinegar?”

Jing Xi nodded. “Dip it in vinegar to eat.”

Chi Yao: “…”

The video connected. On the screen, Bai Yi was leaning against the headboard of a bed. The dim light made the expression on his face unclear.

At this time, it was around midnight or early morning on the Capital Star.

“Admiral Bai, do you have any instructions?” Jing Xi’s voice was indifferent, a look of strictly business.

Bai Yi rubbed his forehead, face full of melancholy.

“I dreamed of Bo Jin again. I really couldn’t sleep, so I sought you out to chat a bit.”

Jing Xi: “When Major General Bo had his accident, I was less than five years old. I don’t know much about him.”

Bai Yi sighed a long sigh.

“I knew nothing in this world can be hidden forever. Even if it’s hidden for a while, there will be a day of exposure sooner or later.”

Jing Xi said impassively, “What did you hide?”

Bai Yi looked at him. “Bo Jin, indeed had problems.”

Jing Xi frowned, his beautiful eyes turning cold. “Please speak clearly.”

Bai Yi looked out the window, looking sorrowful.

“He was indeed my most outstanding disciple, and because of that, I could not tolerate his betrayal of the military even more.”

Jing Xi: “What did Major General Bo do?”

Bai Yi: “Before that storm back then, I discovered he was colluding with Ghost. I thought it was just simple profit dealings, but later I found out things were far less simple than I thought. He might have been a member of Ghost, holding a high status in the organization.”

“On his return journey from that expedition, we had a fierce argument over comms. I believed he could no longer serve as battlefield reinforcement, so I insisted on having the Xuanwu Legion take a detour, hoping to persuade him to stop. If that didn’t work, we would intercept Xuanwu halfway. I didn’t expect that kind of thing to happen—”

At this point, Bai Yi looked at Jing Xi.

“After the incident, I often wondered if my questioning caused him to lose his calm and judgment, leading him to get swept into the storm. Or perhaps he knew he was exposed, so he took the entire legion to die with him as revenge against me—all these years, not a day goes by that I don’t blame myself. If I had handled it differently back then, would there have been a different outcome?”

Jing Xi: “Then why didn’t you say anything at the time?”

Bai Yi’s expression became even more sorrowful.

“He followed me for so many years after all. The person was gone; I hoped he could leave with some dignity.”

Jing Xi: “Do you know how serious the consequences of this concealment are?”

“I know.”

Bai Yi smiled bitterly. “But even knowing, I really couldn’t bring myself to say it.”

Ever since he got a wife who was clumsy with his hands, Chi Yao found his cooking skills improving.

This was probably some kind of survival instinct.

His waist was suddenly embraced from behind, and someone pressed against him.

Chi Yao didn’t look back. “Talked for that long?”

Jing Xi: “You guessed right. Indeed, not a word of human language.”

Chi Yao smiled. “What did he say?”

Jing Xi rested his head on his shoulder, looking at the ribs bubbling in the pot, swallowing saliva greedily.

“Bo Jin did everything; it has nothing to do with him.”

After listening to Jing Xi’s retelling, Chi Yao cursed in a low voice.

“Sacrificing the rook to save the king? He really knows how to play chess.”

“Anyway, dead men tell no tales. He can say whatever he wants,” Jing Xi said indifferently. “He thinks he can divert our attention, but actually, he exposed even more.”

Chi Yao lifted the pot lid and scoffed. “Let’s see how long he can act.”

Jing Xi took the opportunity to sniff vigorously: “…”

So fragrant, I’m hungry.