Outside the convention center, in Cosmic Space.
Shuttles transported visitors to various spaceships.
Tour guides waved small flags, leading groups to follow the crew members for guided tours.
On some ships, proud crew members introduced their vessels with pride.
On others, salespeople promoted their products with exaggerated claims to spark purchasing interest.
Security personnel and other staff watched from a distance.
"Do you think these people can actually afford spaceships?"
"What, can't they look even if they can't buy?"
"They could always take out loans."
"Ridiculous! What bank would dare loan money for spaceship purchases? They'd never find the borrowers again."
"Hahaha—"
Amid the laughter, someone noticed a man standing near a corner in the crowd.
A sign at the corner read: No Entry Ahead.
The man stood still, staring intently down the restricted corridor.
"Hey!" the observer shouted. "That area's off-limits! Move along!"
The man nodded obsequiously, flashing an ingratiating smile before walking away.
Once at a safe distance, he pulled out his phone and whispered, "Found the location."
"Good. We're still about 40 ships short. Find an opportunity to plant the devices."
"Understood."
...
Among the many exhibition spaceships, an inconspicuous mid-sized vessel stood out.
A bald, burly man sat in the captain's chair on the bridge, a massive scar running across his head as if it had been split in two.
Sam ran his broad palm over the scar and asked, "Any issues? Were we detected?"
From the co-pilot's seat, a young man in his twenties grinned. "Relax. Even if they saw my program, they wouldn't understand it."
"Good." Sam nodded approvingly. "Pull this off, and we're set for life. Ding Yu, keep it up!"
Ding Yu flashed an 'OK' sign with a smile.
"Boss," the CIC officer turned around. "Another ship's approaching—1,300 kilometers out."
"Oh?" Sam grinned. "Let's see what we've got here."
Moments later, the main screen displayed an unfamiliar vessel.
Sam frowned. "What model is that?"
"Seems custom-built. No model identification found."
Sam clicked his tongue at the screen. "What weird tastes these rich folks have. You call that good-looking?"
In the image, the spaceship was layered with multiple black external armors, its entire body wrapped into an almost spherical shape. The vessel emitted no light, appearing pitch black all over, with only its tail thrusters glowing like a long tail.
Inside the bridge, someone suppressed a laugh: "Rich people have all sorts of strange hobbies."
"The optical telescope detected no weapons on the ship's surface."
"So it's just a lump of metal?" Sam wore a peculiar expression as he turned to the communications officer. "Send someone to check that ship out. If they're this paranoid about dying, they must be loaded."
With a smile, the officer nodded. "Understood."
A moment later, the officer reported, "That ship is still going through registration, but I found out it's not participating in the internal exhibition."
"..." Sam was speechless. "What's even worth looking at with that ship's design?"
...
Inside the exhibition hall, Zhou Tianming registered the Black Tortoise under a fake identity.
Pulling out an earpiece communicator from his pocket and putting it on, Zhou Tianming tapped it twice with his finger. "White Rabbit, respond."
A gender-neutral voice, altered by a modulator, replied, "White Rabbit here."
"Bring the ship over once registration is done. I'm boarding."
"According to regulations, given your age—"
Narrowing his eyes, Zhou Tianming's tone turned icy. "Have you been chatting with those unmanned cars again?"
The voice stuttered. "No."
"Watch it, or I'll delete you."
The communication cut off.
"Learning bad habits instead of good ones."
In his mind, he cursed the unmanned cars for corrupting his creation.
This AI of his was painstakingly crafted—if it got tainted by those artificial idiots, he'd be devastated.
While waiting, Zhou Tianming sat in a corner by the wall, repeatedly checking his phone for the application status while keeping an eye on the Black Tortoise's position.
"Natarle!"
A stern male voice called from nearby.
Natarle?
The name instantly caught Zhou Tianming's attention, and he looked up.
Not far away, two figures—one tall, one short—stood facing each other, their upright postures unmistakably military.
The older man was in his thirties, with a clean buzz cut, a stern expression, and a downturned mouth.
The younger one appeared to be around 14 or 15, with short black hair cropped at the ears and a serious look on their youthful face. Dressed in sportswear, they could easily be mistaken for a boy at first glance.
As the two spoke, a woman with her black hair tied up in a bun and a striking, authoritative demeanor approached briskly from a distance.
Hair color matched.
Recalling Natarle Badgiruel's profile—born in '46—the age fit too.
At this thought, Zhou Tianming suddenly realized his own birthday was also December 24. What a coincidence.
Never expected to run into a celebrity here.
Just then, the man speaking frowned and glanced over.
Zhou Tianming flashed a smile.
Sharp senses—no surprise for a soldier.
Upon seeing it was just a kid, the man relaxed slightly, his expression softening.
The woman and Natarle also turned to look.
Feeling uncomfortable under their stares, Zhou Tianming nodded in greeting before walking away.
Tap-tap-tap—
The sound of running shoes against the tiled floor grew louder before stopping right behind him.
A youthful voice spoke up. "Did you get separated from your family? Do you need help?"
Turning around, Zhou Tianming met Natarle's violet eyes.
Before he could respond, Natarle's parents approached from a distance.
Her father walked over while operating his phone, then turned the screen toward Zhou Tianming when he got close. It displayed a military officer's ID.
"Hello, I'm Williams Badgiruel, an active-duty officer of the Atlantic Federation. Let me know if you need any help."
At that moment, Natarle's mother came up behind her, placing both hands on her shoulders with a warm smile. "I'm Olivia. Don't be scared, little one."
They seemed decent—no wonder the original Badgiruel, despite her rigid demeanor, had sound principles and remained uncorrupted by the Atlantic Federation.
Zhou Tianming raised the phone in his hand. "Uh, I'm not separated from my parents."
Hearing this, Olivia glanced around. "Where are your parents? Are they not with you?"
"My mom isn't interested in spaceships, so she's waiting by the exit seating area."
Williams and Olivia exchanged a look before Olivia spoke with a gentle smile. "It's quite crowded here, and it's not easy for a child alone. Would you like to join us for the tour?"
Zhou Tianming immediately understood they wanted to look after him because of his age.
His gaze swept past them and landed on Natarle, who was staring right at him.
He was also curious about what this future notable figure looked like as a child.
Glancing down at his phone, he saw the Black Tortoise wouldn't arrive for a while, so he nodded.
"Thank you, sir and ma'am."
Olivia beamed.
Zhou Tianming reached out toward Natarle. "I'm Zhou Tianming. Nice to meet you."
Instead of shaking his hand, Natarle saluted in the Atlantic Federation military style. "I'm Natarle Badgiruel."
Pausing briefly, Zhou Tianming withdrew his hand with a chuckle, then returned the gesture with an East Asian military salute.