Arriving at the medical cabin, Jing Xi went to visit injured soldiers while Chi Yao turned toward a private room at the end of the corridor. Li Yuan leaned against the hospital bed as Chun Qin administered an injection.

“What exactly is going on between you and that Chu Xiao?”

Chi Yao closed the door and asked straightforwardly.

Li Yuan’s eyes darted away, his face showing embarrassment.

“Just, just that—Ow! Chun Qin, be gentle!”

Chun Qin calmly withdrew the needle and said softly: “Sorry, hurt you.”

Li Yuan: “…”

You definitely did that on purpose!

“You really took a liking to him?” Chi Yao pulled over a chair and sat down, unkindly mocking: “You could be his father.”

Li Yuan’s neck stiffened: “I fucking am his father!”

Chi Yao frowned: “Sure it’s your son who was sold?”

Hearing the words “sold,” Li Yuan couldn’t help recalling those messy matters from his youth.

He was born on a fringe planet, never did proper work growing up. In his teens, he followed mercenary groups on missions, picking up a bunch of bad habits and vices.

The child was the result of a one-night stand. Speaking of dog-blood drama—he originally didn’t know about the child’s existence until six months later when that omega contacted him for money.

He’d never imagined he could have an ordinary person’s marriage, but having a child gave him fantasies. Even though the other party was an omega in the sex trade, he’d thought about living a stable life together.

But that omega was like a money-eating beast. After squandering all the money he gave, they actually sold the child too.

He spent many years searching. Not only didn’t he find the child, but he fell into desperate straits himself. If Chi Yao hadn’t saved him, he’d probably still be touring various amusement parks until killed by a stronger opponent.

Snapping out of memories, Li Yuan wiped his face.

“The birthmark on my body is the same as my son’s.”

Chun Qin tidied the medical kit and said casually: “To confirm blood relationship, just run a test.”

Li Yuan was silent for a long time before shaking his head.

“Forget it. Testing is meaningless. Knowing he’s safe is enough.”

“That’s not your style.” Seeing his dejected will, Chi Yao scoffed. “Maybe he’s also been searching for his biological parents. You can’t make decisions for him.”

Li Yuan smiled bitterly: “I’m not only a star pirate—I’m not even human anymore. Even if he recognizes me as his father, it’ll only add trouble. He’s a filial child. I don’t want to bind him.”

Chi Yao suddenly realized he had no qualifications to lecture Li Yuan.

If someday his existence hindered Jing Xi, he’d also choose to step back.

“Just think it through yourself.”

Chi Yao looked at Chun Qin, changing topics: “How’s the sedative preparation going?”

Chun Qin tilted her head over, lips curving slightly upward: “Plenty to spare.”

“Distribute them. Ensure everyone carries three injections at all times.” Chi Yao stood, saying flatly: “I don’t want to see improper news online.”

Chun Qin: “I’ll handle it right away.”

Opening the hospital room door, seeing Chu Xiao leaning by the door, Chi Yao wasn’t particularly surprised.

Just inside, he’d already heard movement.

Chu Xiao’s expression was blank, staring at him blankly, seemingly unable to digest what he’d heard for a while.

Chi Yao: “Talk while walking.”

Tonight’s matters were numerous. He had no time to waste.

Chu Xiao glanced at the hospital room door and hurriedly followed Chi Yao.

Too many questions to ask—for a moment, he didn’t know where to start.

“Many people are like him.”

Hearing Chi Yao speak, Chu Xiao’s hands hanging at his sides clenched tight, his expression heavy, eyes flickering.

Chi Yao walked unhurriedly toward the medical cabin where Jing Xi was, hands in pockets.

“To find important people, they stepped into this dangerous circle. Result—didn’t find the person, but got themselves trapped instead.”

“Why? Is being a star pirate easier for finding people?”

Chu Xiao’s voice tightened. After speaking, he felt his question was foolish.

“People who can’t be found through proper channels have mostly flowed into worlds normal people can’t access.”

Chi Yao looked at the white light at the corridor’s end, expressionlessly saying: “Wanting to find your belonging among thousands of planets—too difficult.”

Chu Xiao’s throat tightened, eye corners moistening.

Though parents never explicitly mentioned his origins, he could somewhat sense he wasn’t biological.

“What did he mean saying he’s not human anymore?” Chu Xiao asked nervously.

“When it’s time for you to know, you’ll be allowed to know.” Chi Yao glanced at him. “You just need to know he’s very happy you didn’t enter this circle—that’s enough.”

Chu Xiao’s eyes widened. As if trying to prove something, he hurriedly said: “My parents are very good to me. Never let me suffer.”

Chi Yao laughed helplessly and patted his shoulder: “Old Li probably passed all his lifetime’s luck to you.”

Chu Xiao: “…”

Chi Yao didn’t plan to intervene in matters between this father-son pair. Recognizing each other or not—neither was something he could interfere with.

Jing Xi emerged from one of the medical rooms. From afar, he saw Chu Xiao wave goodbye to Chi Yao and run back hurriedly.

“Who is he to Old Li?”

When Chi Yao came over, Jing Xi asked quietly.

Chi Yao raised an eyebrow: “You figured it out again?”

Jing Xi: “Isn’t it obvious?”

Chi Yao: “…”

The room had a group of wounded soldiers receiving treatment. Chi Yao couldn’t say much.

“Are you finished here?”

Jing Xi nodded, indicating they should return.

Chi Yao casually mentioned it, and Jing Xi was somewhat surprised.

“That omega must have been very beautiful.”

Chi Yao was amused, his heavy mood instantly lightening considerably.

“You’re saying Old Li is ugly?”

Jing Xi shook his head: “But, fortunately.”

Chi Yao’s smile faded: “Yeah.”

Truly falling into that organization—basically impossible to find again.

Even if found, it would only be more painful.

Jing Xi noticed his expression, touched his hand, and the next second it was grasped in his palm.

Similarly separated in youth—Chi Yao was captured for modification while Chu Xiao grew up in a good family.

The huge disparity might merely lie in different luck.

Jing Xi knew he felt bad inside.

Not jealousy or hate—those shallow emotions.

But deep helplessness toward his younger self’s inability to resist the world.

Chi Yao: “For every person captured, there’s someone on the path of searching for relatives.”

Jing Xi gripped his hand, voice low: “You have me, have grandpa and grandma. You’re no worse than him.”

Chi Yao raised his hand and bit his finger: “Be serious. Don’t flirt with me.”

Jing Xi: “…”

Returning to the main cabin, the two sat in the small conference room.

Chi Yao had Jing Xi connect with department heads at the front lines.

Ghost’s masked people appeared, and human-like beasts issued warnings. The front lines would definitely have problems.

Jing Xi’s finger swiped, opening over ten virtual windows at once, displaying various front-line indicators.

“If it’s that night’s detected sound wave intensity, we won’t be too affected. But if the sound waves strengthen further, we’ll probably have to borrow Extreme Shadow’s power.”

Before ultra-high frequency sound waves, even machinery couldn’t withstand it, let alone soldiers.

Only Extreme Shadow’s people didn’t fear sound waves.

But now Ghost’s masked people were probably waiting for opportunities. If attacked from both sides, Extreme Shadow’s pressure would be too great.

If they transformed into beasts on the battlefield, this time wouldn’t be as easy to suppress as on Planet 333.

Chi Yao: “I already had Chun Qin make sedatives. When that time really comes, we’ll improvise.”

A notification sounded. Video windows popped open one by one before them.

Seeing their chief officer and Chi Yao sitting together, no one felt surprised—even took it for granted.

Chi Yao looked at Lü Meng.

“How’s the front line?”

Lü Meng checked data in hand.

“Just had a wave of pythons. Very troublesome—kept drilling into cracks. One careless moment and they slip past!”

Snakes?

Chi Yao and Jing Xi’s expressions darkened.

Jing Xi opened the tracking window.

By tracking the bullet Chi Yao had shot into the Snake King that night, they could obtain its activity trajectory.

It had already moved thirty kilometers toward the front-line direction.

“Report! Lizard swarm discovered, already moved to ten kilometers away. Preliminary estimate—over ten thousand!”

A soldier’s urgent report suddenly came from Lü Meng’s window.

Hearing this, department heads began intense discussion.

“Are bullet stocks enough?! Old Lü, have your people send the military equipment consumption report!”

“Why so many suddenly?! Old Lin, weren’t they detected before?”

“Send a few real-time scan photos from the front. I need to write a report!”

Jing Xi raised his hand to interrupt them, looking at Lü Meng: “Detect sound wave intensity.”

Lü Meng froze for a moment, quickly understanding his meaning.

“Fuck! Again?!”

What happened on Planet 333 was still fresh in memory.

They could only hide from afar. Without Extreme Shadow, there’d be no way to end the war that quickly.

Jin Ze: “Did the beasts’ mutation level upgrade again?”

Lü Meng: “This is fucking forcing me to mutate too? Otherwise, how can I kill them?”

An unintentional remark made Chi Yao’s heart skip heavily.

Forcing mutation…

Can’t kill…

Keeping him has other uses…

These voices repeated in his ears. Chi Yao’s eyes narrowed slightly. An idea gradually formed in his mind, lingering.

Soon, sound wave detection results came out.

“Won’t affect equipment, but people will suffer.” Lü Meng ran his hand over his buzz cut, sighing irritably.

Jing Xi: “Have them wear sound wave isolators. Detect sound wave intensity every ten minutes. Maintain safe distance.”

Lü Meng: “Yes!”

Jing Xi issued a series of new deployments, mobilizing temporary headquarters and rescue team personnel to support the front lines.

“Boss.”

Fang Liang and Li Yuan entered from outside.

Fang Liang’s temple was stained with blood, his military uniform slightly disheveled, looking somewhat haggard.

“Designated area inspection complete. Ghosts placed in the hangar.”

Chi Yao nodded and looked at Li Yuan: “What are you doing here?”

“I want to help at the front line.” Li Yuan’s expression was serious.

Hearing this, Chi Yao didn’t react much, but department heads gasped. Lü Meng reacted strongest.

“What possessed you, old guy?! Don’t fucking come cause trouble at a time like this!”

Li Yuan looked over, sneering: “I’m not going to help you. What are you yelling about?”

Lü Meng choked: “You—!”

Seeing it was about to become a war scene, Jing Xi raised his hand to interrupt.

“What do you think?” Jing Xi asked Chi Yao.

Seeing Li Yuan’s nervous expression from the corner of his eye, how could Chi Yao not know his thoughts?

“Said it before—we’re all family. You decide.”

Department heads: “…”

Who’s family with whom?

“Alright.” Jing Xi agreed flatly, looking at Li Yuan. “You’ll depart with the rescue team. New recruits are your responsibility. Can you handle it?”

Li Yuan was delighted: “Of course no problem!”

Department heads: “!!!”

The boss actually agreed! Even letting him lead?!

Not leading Extreme Shadow people—leading new recruits! Not hearing things, right?!

Jing Xi looked at Fang Liang: “You’ve worked hard. Go back and rest—”

Fang Liang glanced at Chi Yao and said to Jing Xi: “I’ll help too. Extreme Shadow has more experience dealing with beasts than people.”

Jing Xi: “…”

Only you know how to advertise.

Department heads: “…”

Saying Flying Dragon isn’t as tough as mutated beasts?

Think they’re weak.

Chi Yao: “As you wish.”

He’d spoken, so Jing Xi immediately arranged for Fang Liang.

In one night, Extreme Shadow consecutively executed two high-risk missions. A group of technical soldiers sitting at consoles in the Foreign Relations Department felt ashamed.

“If only I could go to the front lines too.”

“What are you thinking? Our work is important too!”

“But having star pirates block in front of us—I feel unworthy of being an Empire warrior. Don’t know how to describe it.”

“I understand your feeling.”

Foreign Relations Department Chief Han Yousheng returned from the meeting and heard their discussion. He looked at various social platforms that had been open.

Controlling public opinion was also their very important work.

Before disaster, even Extreme Shadow had such high awareness. How could they lose?

Han Yousheng waved his hand grandly: “Stop slacking. Get to work!”

“Chief, did Extreme Shadow really go to the front lines?” someone asked.

“The boss personally assigned the mission. Is there any doubt?” Han Yousheng sat at the console. “But we can’t accept their favor for nothing either.”

Surrounding soldiers’ eyes brightened: “Please instruct!”

Han Yousheng: “Edit out all Extreme Shadow-related surveillance videos. They help us fight for the country—we’re responsible for helping them publicize.”

Soldiers: “Brilliant!”

“Right now at the peak, public opinion is gradually changing views on star pirates. The buzz is very high.” Speaking of this, Han Yousheng laughed hehe. “We’ll ride Extreme Shadow’s popularity wave. Might accumulate quite a few fans.”

Soldiers: “…”

Was that last sentence the main point?

Fresh, abnormal things always particularly attract attention.

Since Extreme Shadow began supporting the battlefield, any topic related to Extreme Shadow could have extremely high buzz.

During the late-night segment when night owls were partying, Flying Dragon suddenly released a set of videos.

[Before disaster, we have only one identity—children of the Empire. Thanks to Extreme Shadow brothers @Chi Yao.]

To avoid some trolls questioning, Han Yousheng specifically featured several with high national favorability, conveniently having masked people appear on camera.

Foreign Relations Department soldier: “Chief, is it okay to have Ghost on camera?”

Han Yousheng sneered: “They came out to cause trouble several times. Can’t people say it? If we can’t make them disappear immediately, then first erase them at the social level!”

Soldiers: “…”

Chief, you’re terrifyingly dark.

This video set, once released, quickly occupied top spots on all platforms.

“Oh my god, Extreme Shadow is so strong! Everyone is great! Crying”

“Ahhhhh I’m dead! Hubby wielding a knife is so handsome!”

“Can always trust Extreme Shadow!”

“Hope everyone is safe [prayer]. By the way, are those masked people Ghost? They went to the battlefield to rob again?! Too much!”

“Chi Yao and Jing Xi’s coordination is getting more and more seamless hahaha”

“Star pirates’ power cannot be underestimated. Extreme Shadow is rewriting star pirate circle history!”

Front-line situation unclear, Jing Xi had to command from headquarters, monitoring situation changes at all times.

Chi Yao toured the armory, replenished magazines, and grabbed some handy small tools.

Returning to the main cabin, he saw Han Yousheng waiting at the door.

Han Yousheng rubbed his nose, somewhat nervous: “Mr. Chi, Flying Dragon’s posted content—please give it interaction when you’re free.”

Chi Yao walked inside: “Content?”

Han Yousheng nodded repeatedly: “I tagged you.”

Only then did Chi Yao remember he had an account.

Casually opening his personal homepage—follower count had multiplied several times. Private messages had exploded.

Chi Yao didn’t look. He directly clicked into Flying Dragon’s homepage from his following list, reposted that photo set, and casually typed a few words.

[Family—don’t be polite. @Jing Xi]

Han Yousheng: “…”

In creating explosive points, he’d lost.

Late at night without sleeping, netizens who’d been camping waiting for Chi Yao’s posts exploded.

“Ahhhhh! Chi Yao said family and tagged Major General Jing!”

“Family, is CP fans’ spring coming?”

“Wuwuwu Mom loves your love-hate relationship!”

“Baby, keep it up! One step closer to getting household registration!”

After posting, Chi Yao stopped managing it.

Walking to the command seat, he said to Jing Xi: “Can’t accompany you tonight. Rest up.”

Jing Xi’s eyes immediately swept to the hemostatic bullet magazine inserted in his leg pouch.

“Be careful, especially watch for that silver mask.”

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

Speaking, he ran fingers through Jing Xi’s long hair, saying quietly: “Though can’t confirm their purpose, you’re definitely one of the targets. While I’m away, absolutely don’t go out.”

Jing Xi’s combat prowess was unquestionable, but modified humans and ordinary people weren’t creatures of the same dimension. Some things couldn’t be solved by force—like sound waves.

Jing Xi: “I know.”

Seeing the rescue team’s arrival position in surveillance footage, Chi Yao leaned down and kissed Jing Xi’s face, forcefully inhaling.

“I’m leaving.”

In the main cabin, others observed eyes-nose-nose-heart, not daring to move or look, striving to be qualified background boards.

“…”

Shortly after Chi Yao reposted the video, sharp-eyed netizens discovered the Commander actually liked and commented!

[Pei Zhenyue: Bright future, keep it up.]

Many ate melons until morning, too excited to sleep.

Nothing made people happier than their idol being recognized by authority.

“Before when I stanned Chi Yao, friends around me all scolded. Now, ha—one by one calling him hubby more diligently than me.”

“A person’s character can be seen from details. Chi Yao wasn’t originally a great evil person.”

“Commander has excellent taste! Hope more star pirates like Chi Yao get pulled back to the right path.”

“Extreme Shadow doing good deeds deserves praise. How to handle Ghost that keeps causing chaos? @Commander Pei Zhenyue”

At dawn, many prepared to get up for work.

Casually refreshing—holy shit! Imperial Military Academy Principal Jing Rong also liked and commented on Chi Yao’s post.

[Jing Rong: Giving a like to show my taste is also quite good.]

Under this comment—a row of hahahas—

“Principal is jealous. Such visual sense.”

“Principal is too cute hahahaha”

“If only your grandson’s taste aligned with yours [dog head for safety]”

Don’t know if it opened some strange follow mode, but this video post soon attracted various immortals liking it.

Star pirates working day and night developing wasteland planets were envious.

How could Chi Yao be so glorious?!

Meng Dahu and Old Dog sat on the ground, drinking pure pollution-free northwest wind, hearts desolate as hell.

Meng Dahu drank liquor: “I also really want so many people blowing rainbow farts for me. Just thinking about it feels fucking awesome.”

Old Dog ate dry rations: “Who the fuck doesn’t?”

Meng Dahu thought: “How about—we also open accounts?”

Old Dog looked at him with eyes for the mentally challenged: “You have household registration?”

“Can buy from the black market.”

Meng Dahu thought more and more this was feasible. He sat up straight, excitedly saying: “We’ll also post what we do daily online, then tag Boss Chi. Definitely can ride quite a buzz wave.”

Posting messages was fine, but tagging Chi Yao?

Old Dog: “Aren’t you afraid of getting beaten?”

Meng Dahu shuddered. After a moment, he roared loudly.

“Don’t care! Getting beaten is getting beaten. I want to hold my head high!”

Their voices weren’t small. Nearby groups heard and found it reasonable, immediately going to the black market to buy accounts.

Chi Yao, currently camping at the front lines, completely didn’t know his casually reposted post caused such a huge chain reaction.

When he had time to look, he discovered dozens of accounts named after star pirate groups were crazily tagging him.

When Jing Xi sent him intelligence, he even added a line at the end.

[Now the whole world knows you single-handedly drove the star pirate circle to crazily do good deeds. Big brother, bright future~]

Chi Yao’s gaze fell on the two words “big brother.”

“…”

When doing proper work, don’t flirt with him.