She had barely taken a few steps from the examination hall when a sudden chorus of gasps rippled through the crowd.
Ye Cheng turned, curious, just in time to see a test mech suspended mid‑air, surrounded by flickering trails of colored smoke—twenty, maybe more. Before she could ask, voices rose around her in shock and excitement.
"Did you see that? He took out all the high‑speed drones in under a minute!"
"Figures—it's another freak from the Special Class this year!"
"I caught a glimpse of his collar—gray! Who'd have thought an original slave could pull that off?"
Ye Cheng listened, wide‑eyed. If Sorra ever got the chance to pilot a mech, she thought, he'd probably reach that level in no time. But… high‑speed drones? She pulled up her interface and began searching.
The result nearly made her whistle.
Floating drone spheres were high‑end military training targets—machines that emulated live ammunition or exotic weapon trajectories. Even the low‑speed version was notoriously hard to track, let alone the fast ones. Those were the stuff of nightmares.
Thankfully, the Mecha‑Pilot Department didn't include that sort of drill for beginners; such devices were reserved for second‑year students in the Combat Mech program.
Taking down a full set of high‑speed drones during an entrance exam… she thought admiringly. Star‑Realm Academy really is full of monsters.
Smiling to herself, she almost reached the exit—when an academy staff member stepped into her path and gestured politely.
Following the direction of his hand, Ye Cheng froze. Her pleasant mood collapsed into a blizzard.
Across a small table sat Kairald, immaculate in his tailored uniform, a wolfish smile lurking under his refinement. Between them rested two glasses—amber wine before him, dark violet juice before her.
Ye Cheng's face was expressionless. The juice sat untouched.
"My beautiful miracle," he greeted, voice all silk and charm. "The legend herself, gracing me with her presence. And I never got to thank you for that little miracle you brought me."
The glint in his eye said enough—the crimson‑gold Source Crystal she'd once handed over had clearly paid off handsomely.
Ye Cheng's voice was flat. "You flatter me, Administrator Kairald. My name is Ye Cheng."
He smiled as though her tone amused him. "Indulge my curiosity, Miss Ye. Why the Mecha‑Pilot Department? Surely a lovely young lady like you could find more elegant work than digging through ore in a hulking industrial suit."
She didn't care for verbal games. "Money," she said simply. "My father was hurt in an accident. I want him to recover—good doctors cost far more than I have. If I become a certified pilot, I can earn what we need."
It was part of the truth, at least. The rest he didn't need to know.
"Then let's play a little game," he said pleasantly. He snapped his fingers; a servant appeared with a tray carrying five identical boxes. "Choose one."
They all looked the same. Ye Cheng knew this wasn't as simple as chance. Closing her eyes, she focused, feeling faint tendrils of cold energy brush her senses—then pointed to the box on the far right.
Kairald's eyes gleamed with approval. "Take it."
She hesitated. The way he was looking at her—like a predator humoring a small animal—made her spine stiffen. But she was confident no one could detect her hybrid nature. And she'd drunk enough low‑grade Star‑Realm Juice during her studies to recognize the energy signature of crystals. The weakest field had to be the safe choice; any human who'd tasted the juice could make the same call.
Apparently amused by her caution, Kairald leaned back, voice softening into false warmth. "Your filial heart is admirable," he said. "But fragile fences cannot guard treasures with gorgeous feathers. Sooner or later, someone will trample that fence… and take what gleams behind it."
Her breath caught.
He smiled thinly. "Surely you don't think no one cares about the slave once owned by the only son of the Union's greatest mech master? Or that the descendant of the Senlo chieftain could belong forever to a gentle little princess?"
Ye Cheng's face went pale.
He wasn't wrong.
She'd let herself be blinded by calm days and warm illusions, forgetting the dangers circling all along. She had positioned herself as an ordinary girl—and forgot that to own precious things, one must wield power to protect them.
Money alone would never be enough. Not nearly.
When her breathing steadied again, Kairald continued smoothly, swirling the amber wine in his glass. "As governor of Fontane Star, I have discretion to select candidates for the future Royal Guard. The base salary for an ordinary guardsman is three times that of a top‑tier engineering pilot."
Ye Cheng met his gaze levelly. "What are your conditions?"
He gestured lightly. She picked up her glass and raised it in a polite toast. "What do you want me to do?"
"The academy's Combat Mech Division has an elite Special Class," he said. "Graduate first in that class. In return—work for me for three years."
Her lips parted, but he lifted a finger toward her drink. "Try it. It's excellent."
She hadn't paid much attention earlier, but at his insistence she sniffed the glass and took a tentative sip. A sweet, crisp fragrance bloomed across her tongue, followed by a cool brightness spreading through her chest. "Is this… Star‑Realm Juice?" she asked softly.
He nodded with a hint of pride. "From the First Capital itself—White Alpha Star. Do you know how hard it is to obtain? Even most nobles among the First Humans never taste it."
The liquid gleamed like midnight amethyst—the unmistakable hue of Fallen Twilight, a tier even higher than Dusk.
Ye Cheng stared at it for a long moment, then gave a small, self‑mocking laugh. "I'm… too weak, aren't I?"
Kairald only smiled. Her fingers whitened around the glass. At last she lifted it and drained it dry.
"Deal."
He gestured again. A servant placed a small card before her and stepped back.
"Andreas was far too naive," Kairald mused. "A Zenith‑grade research mech is a toy, not a weapon." Sliding the card across the table, he said lightly, "As a prospective Royal Guard recruit, you're authorized to possess military‑class combat mechs. This is yours now—an Eighth‑Rank Maple‑Orange of Twilight‑grade, standard issue for Fontane's guard. You're free to train with it, fight with it; I'll see to endless power supplies.
"All of it is yours for now. But two years from today—if you lose to any fellow graduate—you lose everything."
Perhaps it was the juice; perhaps exhaustion. By the time she rejoined Yang Yu and Sorra, the world was already spinning. She managed a faint "Hey…" before sleep swept over her.
At first, Yang Yu assumed she was merely tired from the exam. He waited quietly for the results—and froze when the admission notice arrived.
She hadn't been accepted into the Mecha‑Pilot Engineering Department she'd applied for. Instead, the document read: Elite Special Combat‑Mech Class.
He didn't need to see scores to know something was wrong. With her current physical level, she couldn't possibly have qualified, even for the regular Combat program. Only one answer fit—someone had interfered.
Unable to sit still, he took the notice and left to demand an explanation.
Meanwhile, Sorra, left behind, noticed Ye Cheng's skin flushing hot, her breathing shallow. For the first time his empty calm cracked; worry flickered in his face.
But Yang Yu wasn't there. The twins tugged at his sleeves in panic, too young to contact emergency services.
Holding Ye Cheng's burning body in his arms, Sorra hesitated—then raised his hand and activated his Subspace Ring.
"Please… save my master…"
The hovering ambulance arrived within minutes, lights streaking along a priority lane through the city's airways. When Yang Yu returned, he jumped aboard just in time, staying with Sorra as the medics worked over her.
After a battery of tests, the doctor looked at them wide‑eyed. "She isn't ill. Her system is over‑reacting to high‑grade Star‑Realm Juice—her body is being forcibly strengthened. Judging from the energy flare, she likely ingested Twilight‑grade… or higher."
When the doctor left, Yang Yu sat beside her bed in silence. Sorra rested at the headboard, one cool hand gently on her forehead, the twins curled on either side of her, breathing softly in sleep.
Only with the three Senlo around her did her fever finally ease.
Watching the color return to her cheeks, Yang Yu exhaled—but the fire behind his eyes burned darker than ever.
He knew she'd met Kairald. Knew this must be the result.
She did it for them.
He had thought there would be time—that he could guide her, shield her as she grew stronger. But Kairald had reached down from the sky and rewritten their board in an instant, twisting their small, hard‑won peace into a binding contract. With absolute power, one could rewrite all rules.
If they weren't slaves.
If he weren't carrying secrets worth killing for.
If Sorra could reveal his true strength to the world—
Would Ye Cheng then be free to choose her own path?
Kairald's motives, though, made little sense. To him, Ye Cheng should have been just another minor New‑Human girl—her father, once a prestigious mech scholar, now long fallen, comatose, his Subspace Ring destroyed, his worth spent.
Could it be because of Shennong? No—Kairald couldn't possibly know.
The Crimson‑Gold Evening Crystal they'd taken from the mine? Unlikely. If that were the reason, he would have simply enslaved Yang Yu himself—the only one capable of mining such gems.
His focus had to be on Ye Cheng. The juice she'd drunk was far too precious to lavish on anyone else. This wasn't generosity—it was investment. He was casting a long line, gambling on a future catch. Raising a powerless girl into a Royal Guard candidate would require enormous resources—but the payoff… could be monumental.
"Tubby…"
The faint voice startled him. He looked up sharply.
Her eyes were half‑open, unfocused, but smiling. "Your eyes look scary," she whispered.
He blinked hard, inclining his head, then reached to clasp her hand. "Forgive me, Master."
She squeezed back weakly. "Why apologize?"
He didn't answer—just held her gaze with stubborn silence.
After a long moment, she smiled faintly. "Tubby, I… have a secret. I can't tell you, but today's choice—it was mine. I'm really lucky, you know? To have met you all, to finally have a home... something I never had before."
Her voice grew softer, drifting. "Being tied to Kairald isn't so bad. I'll have protection, access, money… a place in the world. Even after graduation, work waiting for me."
Yang Yu stayed silent as stone.
Ye Cheng sighed, the last of her strength ebbing. "You guys should rest too. I'm tired again…"
Her eyes fluttered closed, breathing deepening into sleep.
Yang Yu drew the blanket higher over her and remained beside her without a sound. Beneath his calm, anger smoldered like a storm waiting for dawn.