【Level 1 hatch opening—】

Accompanying the prompt from the AI control system, the thick, heavy hatch in front of the launch track slowly opened.

Gao Wanxin’s adjutant hurriedly issued the detonation command down to the spacecraft’s cockpit.

【Level 2 hatch opening—】

As the aircraft glided along the track, Gao Wanxin’s irritable mood visibly turned for the better.

External communication from the spacecraft had already been cut off. No matter what Li Xiao had discovered, all secrets would turn into cosmic dust along with the explosion of the spacecraft.

【Warning! Aircraft engine system malfunction! Operation will cease after a one-minute countdown!】

Dozens of red warning windows popped up on the control console. The adjutant was shocked: “How could this happen? Did someone tamper with the aircraft?!”

All armaments were strictly inspected and maintained, and this aircraft was no exception.

“It must have been Meng Jian’s doing!” a military officer said angrily.

Another military officer: “Not necessarily—it could also be the Second Prince. Meng Jian didn’t know we were going to tear off all pretenses with him when he came.”

“Should we hurry and switch aircraft right now?” the adjutant asked Gao Wanxin.

Looking at those warnings, Gao Wanxin fell into thought.

“Don’t panic. Cut the wiring of the AI system, switch to manual piloting, and find someone to check the status of the engine.”

Understanding the meaning behind his words, the adjutant nodded in acknowledgment.

“Yes sir.”

Checking after forcefully shutting down the AI system, there was indeed no issue with the engine.

The thing tampered with was not the engine, but the AI system.

Another parking bay.

Meng Tu was being almost entirely suppressed and beaten by Jiang Chi.

Having previously had his ribs broken by Song Jin, his bullets were also completely exhausted. After taking a few punches, Meng Tu found an opportunity to flip onto the lowest level of the metal catwalk.

Meng Tu jumped to the second level, preparing to flip inside. Jiang Chi followed close behind, grabbing the metal railing and driving a kick over.

Dodging the attack, Meng Tu stepped onto thin air with one foot. Hastily steadying himself, he took another punch right to the face, half of his face going numb.

Just as Jiang Chi was preparing to add a kick to knock him down, his subordinate’s anxious voice came through the earpiece.

“This is the fifth squad of the Detection Unit! Anomaly detected in Main Cabin Zone B—five suspicious explosive devices discovered!”

Jiang Chi: “What?!”

Immediately after, other detection squads reported their situations in the public frequency one after another, finding bombs in every single sector.

Taking advantage of the split second he dithered, Meng Tu grabbed the metal railing, turned around, and drove a kick over. While Jiang Chi dodged, he rapidly flipped into the catwalk, preparing to run.

Furious, Jiang Chi was just about to chase over when an afterimage suddenly flashed through his vision.

All of Meng Tu’s attention was on Jiang Chi. By the time he sensed the anomaly behind him, he had already been struck by a sweeping leg, falling directly off the catwalk.

“Ugh! Cough cough cough cough… Hss!”

Retracting his leg, Jiang Hao braced against the railing to flip out, jumping to the railing of the catwalk on the lower level and rapidly landing on the ground.

Just as Meng Tu climbed up, Jiang Hao, who chased over, seized his wrist to twist it back, pressing a knee into his back to pin him to the ground, rendering him unable to move.

“You’re the one who caused my brother to go work illegally at the border?”

Pinning down the back of Meng Tu’s neck, Jiang Hao rarely pulled a long face, “Not a single scoundrel named Meng is any good.”

“Jiang Chi is your brother?”

Meng Tu couldn’t see the person behind him, but could distinguish Jiang Hao’s voice—it was that youth who followed beside Li Xiao.

He hadn’t expected that child from back then to have grown this big.

Why was he following Li Xiao? A coincidence?

Over there, Jiang Chi had his subordinates continue confirming the situation of the explosives, neutralizing them based on their properties, while simultaneously notifying all combat units.

By the time he jumped to the ground, he happened to hear the question Meng Tu asked, his mood complex.

“Didn’t expect it, did you? To be defeated one day by the child you once kidnapped.”

Hearing these words, a scene from seventeen years ago floating before Meng Tu’s eyes involuntarily.

Back then, Jiang Chi had already submitted his transfer application.

One evening, while out for an evening run, he encountered Jiang Chi, who was strolling outside carrying a baby. They weren’t very close friends, but meeting each other, they could chat for a few words.

Jiang Chi didn’t leave his brother out of every three sentences. It was the first time Meng Tu had seen the other party’s silly side, and this scene remained etched in his mind, lingering persistently.

He also had a younger brother, but the atmosphere at home was suffocating and severe, everyone’s spirits strung tight with hardly a moment to relax. This also led to him and his brother being unable to get along harmoniously, a barrier existing between them since childhood, yet he didn’t know how to change it.

Jiang Chi could smile and chat with outsiders about his brother; he envied this sense of relaxation, unable to help thinking that the Jiang family’s home atmosphere must be completely different from his own, right?

Fifteen years ago, he suddenly received a mission issued by his father—Jiang Chi had investigated things detrimental to the Meng family and had to be disposed of immediately.

The Yi family was the Meng family’s mortal enemy. To kill the chicken to warn the monkey, his father’s intention was to dispose of Jiang Chi’s younger brother as well, giving Yi Yongning a lesson to let him know the Meng family was not to be messed with.

He suddenly recalled the scene from that evening two years prior. No matter what, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Yet leaving Jiang Chi alone wouldn’t do—even if he didn’t act, others would, not to mention he could not disregard the family’s interests.

That was the only time he defied a family order.

The baby in his arms cried incessantly, so soft it would break with a hard squeeze; killing it didn’t even require using a gun.

He stood in front of the window, watching Jiang Chi, whose hands and feet were bound in the ward, struggling violently due to the severe pain brought by memory washing, yet his eyes never left the baby in his arms for a single moment.

That enraged yet tragic gaze was something he could still clearly recall to this day.

Placing the thing he couldn’t obtain right before his eyes to tear it to complete shreds, he felt a twisted sense of pleasure.

Was it pure violence, or protecting the Jiang brothers within the scope of the rules?

He could no longer distinguish what kind of mindset he harbored.

The family was a heavy shackle; he lacked the power to resist, yet couldn’t achieve complete obedience either.

Perhaps he merely wished someone could help him end this endless nightmare.

Meng Tu: “Jiang Chi.”

Jiang Chi: “What?”

Meng Tu tugged the corners of his mouth to cough and laugh at the same time, feeling a sense of ease he had never experienced before: “I’ve waited for this day for a long time.”

Spacecraft Cockpit.

A group of people received the order from Gao Wanxin’s adjutant, rapidly setting up the detonation program in preparation to evacuate.

Yet upon reaching the door, they discovered the door couldn’t be opened.

“Is the sensor broken?”

“Impossible—it was fine when we just came in.”

“Someone go manually open the door.”

A soldier closest to the control console answered, opening the access control system at hand to open the cockpit door.

Yet no matter how many times he operated it, the door remained motionless.

“Hurry up! Not ready yet?”

“Opening a door is this troublesome?”

The soldier switched to the backend to check, confirming back and forth several times, and said with some anxiety: “The program malfunctioned! It can’t be opened!”

Seeing this, the Beta officer ahead instructed everyone: “Leave through the emergency exit!”

Everyone: “Yes sir!”

Just as the words landed, someone was heard shouting loudly: “Sir, the emergency exit is locked tight too!”

With a dark face, the Beta Major took large strides over. After several failed attempts, he slapped the door and shouted loudly: “Open the door!”

Inside the cockpit, the gentle baritone of the AI system sounded—

【Command received, starting Disco Mode—】

“What the heck? What Disco Mode?!”

“The lighting system malfunctioned too?!”

“The door still can’t be opened!”

Yet no matter how they shouted, the door showed no sign of opening whatsoever.

The Beta Major barked in fury: “Come over and pry the door open!”

The soldier in front of the control console: “All eight door locks are completely engaged—it can’t be pried open!”

The detonation program had already entered the countdown, yet they were locked in here.

Rapidly flashing and sweeping lights along with strongly rhythmic music exacerbated the anxious emotions. Very soon, someone broke down and screamed, the entire cockpit falling into chaos.

Aboard the aircraft.

Gao Wanxin watched the situation outside through the surveillance screen.

The Ninth Legion and the Fourth Legion were still engaged in battle, and spacecraft from the Ninth Legion were continuously surrounding them.

Gao Wanxin checked the time.

In less than ten minutes, the factors threatening the Gao family would completely vanish.

The adjutant kept an eye on internal movements within the spacecraft at all times, yet discovered that for three minutes, not a single person had reported progress to him. Attempting to take the initiative to contact them proved impossible to connect, making him ask the technician anxiously: “Cutting off external communication signals—does it affect internal communications as well?”

Technician: “Theoretically, it has no impact.”

The adjutant knit his brows.

This was strange then.

Noticing his expression wasn’t right, Gao Wanxin asked casually: “What’s wrong?”

Just as the adjutant was about to speak, the entire cockpit suddenly shook violently. Everyone not sitting in a seat flew out toward one side, slamming heavily onto metal tables and chairs. Individual officers rolled all the way from one end to the other, knocked unconscious on the spot.

A piercing alarm sounded throughout the entire space, red warning windows stacking layer upon layer above the control console.

【Warning! Warning! Warning!】

【Aircraft struck by spacecraft debris! Engine system severely malfunctioned! All passengers please prepare for safe transfer!】

Everyone’s expression changed drastically, looking at the surveillance screen by instinct.

The external environment was far too complex. Manual piloting demanded far too high a technical standard, making it impossible to avoid all dangers.

Waiting for the amplitude of the vibration to decrease somewhat, Gao Wanxin unbuckled his safety harness and stood up: “Go to the escape cabin!”

The adjutant hurriedly followed: “A lifeboat is too small; ejecting out carries an extremely high likelihood of suffering enemy attacks!”

Gao Wanxin walked with large strides: “Can’t care about that much anymore! Notify the mecha force to come support!”

Adjutant: “Yes sir!”

Just as the adjutant anticipated, the vicinity was filled entirely with Ninth Legion troops. The moment the lifeboat flew out, it was immediately set upon and besieged.

A lifeboat was not like a spacecraft; everyone was fixed to their seats unable to move, and it possessed only the most basic piloting programs, unable to initiate attacks against anything external.

Through the protective shield, watching mechas continuously fly past right up against their faces, a group of military officers turned green with fright.

“Here comes another one—quick, dodge it!!”

“There’s a group behind as well!”

A group of people cried out. Sitting in front controlling direction and speed, the adjutant was so nervous his palms were drenched in sweat.

Comparing speed between a lifeboat and a mecha—how could it possibly compare?!

“Support is so slow!” Even the ever-composed Gao Wanxin began to panic.

At the center of the confrontation between the two armies, the lifeboat, possessing zero ability to resist, threaded through countless mechas and fighter jets. Without courage, one could be frightened unconscious in minutes.

“Not good! Drop altitude!”

Hearing the warning, the adjutant dropped altitude abruptly. Just as he dodged a severed mecha limb crashing over, three mechas charged head-on.

“Can’t dodge it!”

Before the mechas’ blades fell, a silver mecha bearing the mark of the Fourth Legion flew past at extreme speed, executing a combo move that instant-killed all three enemy units.

“Beautiful!”

“This skill is so slick!”

“Came far too timely!”

Gao Wanxin nodded in appreciation, saying to the adjutant: “Promote this person.”

Adjutant: “Yes sir!”

Receiving the docking request from the mecha, the adjutant hesitated not a moment, selecting agreement directly.

The back shell of the silver mecha opened, ejecting a chain bearing a docking port.

Docking with the lifeboat, the mecha accelerated its flight speed, taking the lifeboat along on a wild dash all the way.

Over the next ten minutes, Gao Wanxin and a group of his subordinates spectated top-tier mecha piloting skills from the front row—taking on a crowd single-handedly was as easy as chopping vegetables.

“Which brother from the mecha force is this? Can we connect? I really want to know!”

“Better not affect his combat; we’re relying entirely on him right now.”

“Once we get back to the warship we’ll know who it is!”

The lifeboat was extremely rudimentary, lacking any radar system. Seeing a corner of a warship appear in his vision, Gao Wanxin let out a sigh of relief.

Although unexpected twists occurred in the middle, they had at least returned successfully.

“How’s Li Xiao’s side?” Only at this point did Gao Wanxin finally have the mind to ask about the situation inside the spacecraft.

Adjutant: “Lost contact. I’ll try again once we get back onto the warship.”

Gao Wanxin reconfirmed the time.

If all went smoothly, the spacecraft should have already been destroyed by this hour.

“Arrived, arrived!”

“This was the longest flight of my life.”

“Thankfully it was a close call without real danger.”

The hatch to the parking bay was open. The silver mecha flew inside with the lifeboat, passing through five sets of floodgates, and came to a stop at the designated position.

Upon landing, the adjutant turned around at the first moment to help Gao Wanxin.

“Sir, take it easy.”

Gao Wanxin waved his hand: “I’m fine.”

Just as he stepped out of the lifeboat, Gao Wanxin sensed something wasn’t right. Looking around his surroundings in confusion, his brow twitched wildly.

This was not a Fourth Legion warship.

A flurry of footsteps sounded by his ear. Gao Wanxin looked over abruptly, noticing at a single glance the attire of this group of people.

These were Shengya military uniforms.

Leading the team was an Omega wearing a Major General uniform—tall, refined, and handsome. His natural smiling face carried great warmth and approachability, giving people the feeling of a refreshing spring breeze. Paired with this military uniform, he looked both gentle and dignified.

Gao Wanxin possessed quite a bit of data on the Shengya military, knowing this person was named Rong Mian, younger brother to Prince Consort Rong Shi, and partner to Third Prince Song Yang of the Shengya Empire.

But why would the lifeboat be brought onto this warship?!

Surprise and suspicion unsettled Gao Wanxin, a very bad premonition faintly rising within him.

“General Gao, I’ve long heard of your great name.”

Rong Mian stood firm three paces in front of Gao Wanxin, “I didn’t expect to meet in this manner. I am Rong Mian.”

Gao Wanxin’s expression was drawn very tight. Wanting to pretend to be very calm, he couldn’t achieve it, scrutinizing Rong Mian vigilantly: “Why is Major General Rong here? The Fourth Legion doesn’t seem to have received your side’s request for support.”

The adjutant and a group of Danse officers subtly shielded Gao Wanxin in the middle, prepared for battle at any moment.

Rong Mian: “Entrusted by an old friend to come help with a small favor.”

Gao Wanxin: “Old friend?”

Rong Mian’s gaze swept behind Gao Wanxin: “He’s coming over.”

Gao Wanxin and a group of military officers turned their heads, only to see Li Xiao light-footedly jump down from the cockpit of the silver mecha that had brought them, walking over toward this side unhurriedly.

A group of officers underwent a pupil earthquake.

Li Xiao hadn’t been blown to death—he had actually rescued them and carried them on a flight all the way?!

Seeing Li Xiao, Gao Wanxin’s premonition came true, a voice by his ear continuously telling him—

It’s over. Things are developing toward a terrible direction, gradually slipping out of his control.

The sense of losing control made Gao Wanxin extremely irritable, his hand hanging by his side clenching subconsciously.

Reports from commanders of various legions suddenly came through the public frequency.

“Just received news—Shengya’s army has crossed the border! They carry a higher-end stealth system. The earliest intrusion time we can currently detect was half an hour ago!”

“Sir, the Fourth Legion has been surrounded by Shengya’s army!”

“This is the Eighty-Seventh Legion! Just detected twenty-seven Shengya forces approaching! Their range of activity is continuously expanding!”

“There are Shengya forces active in the vicinity of all our legions!”

…

Listening to these reports, watching Li Xiao draw closer step by step, Gao Wanxin finally came to understand.

The one Li Xiao allied with Shengya to truly deal with was not the Meng family, but him.

The momentum built by the Royal Family in the early stage had weakened the numbers and combat effectiveness of the Meng family troops to the lowest point; there was no need to rely on Shengya to be sufficient to handle them.

Whether it was Li Xiao’s so-called trust in him, making the Gao family troops the main force for this operation, or even the point about working together to deal with the Meng family—all of it was a tactic to delude him.

From before the war broke out, Li Xiao had already set up the board, merely waiting for him to jump inside.

In other words, that far back, Li Xiao had already begun to suspect him, suspect the Gao family—while he remained completely ignorant.

All along, he had firmly believed he was the hunter, and Li Xiao was merely a pawn he created to counterbalance the Meng family.

Yet he hadn’t expected that without realizing it, the pawn had turned into the hunter, while he had fallen into being the prey.