Chapter 77

The middle-aged man had dressed himself up as if he had just robbed a jewelry store. He wore a sharp-looking outfit, the materials of which seemed to emit unknown radiation. On his chest was a large, flashing yellow light, about the size of a slow-down warning light you'd see on the roadside at night. His head was covered with something resembling a lady's stocking, pulled down to his mouth, revealing a Middle-Eastern style stubble on his chin.

Despite the man's creative getup, Wang Yacheng recognized him instantly. He could recognize this man even if he turned to ashes, because this father was his own flesh and blood.

Wang Yizheng was also stunned. The two stared at each other at the doorway for a long time, never expecting to meet under such circumstances. He almost wanted to worship this ingenious twist of fate.

Looking at his dumbfounded younger son, at the boy's increasingly shrunken face, sunken skin, and bloodshot eyes from fatigue, Wang Yizheng couldn't help but feel grief welling up inside.

It wasn't because of the endless wars, nor the unknown origins of the child on Wang Yacheng's back, nor even the fact that his boy had unexpectedly taken up such a dangerous line of work. It was because his precious son was about to turn nineteen, so how could he still be a stubborn, short winter melon?

The fantasy of "a son growing into a towering, upstanding man at the final stage of development" finally shattered. Wang Yizheng's eyes brimmed with hot tears as he thought resentfully, "Why couldn't his sister share some of her height with him?"

Wang Yacheng silently gave Wang Yizheng's shoulder a light push, signaling him to enter the room. He then carefully closed the door and leaned against it, observing the area outside to ensure no one was nearby. Only then did he expertly shut the anti-eavesdropping isolation door and turn around to dump the kid he was carrying aside.

He cleared his throat and erupted without warning, roaring into his dad's ear.

"I thought you were dead! I thought you had been blown into a crutch! Couldn't you have said something? Couldn't you have left me some memento or clue at home?"

Wang Yizheng: "..."

...Wait, why do all these runaways play the victim first?

About a dozen renowned scientists, all titans in their fields, sat in the room. Being an inevitably older group, they formed a middle-aged and elderly audience, sitting in rows amidst the gloomy and tense wartime atmosphere, jointly appreciating this rather loud outburst from the special correspondent.

Wang Yacheng paid no heed to the outsiders. His prince syndrome and middle school syndrome simultaneously issued critical condition notices. He ranted at length, using hardly any repeated words, madly raging for a full fifteen minutes.

An old expert, intimidated by his sound waves, silently took out a box of fast-acting heart pills from his pocket and ate one.

And after those fifteen minutes, Wang Yacheng's scolding abruptly ceased. He glanced at his wrist watch, his expression indifferent as he shut his mouth. Picking up the half-bottle of mineral water someone had left on the table, he downed it in one gulp. With a blank face, he turned to the other scientists, "Is everyone ready? The vehicles should be here soon. We need to leave this place as quickly as possible."

No one dared to refute his opinion, afraid of being subjected to a baptism of spittle.

The old experts swiftly took out their already packed belongings, indicating they could set off at a moment's notice. Only Wang Yizheng was clueless, tugging on Wang Yacheng's sleeve. Frowning, he asked with concern, "Just you alone? How can you take so many of us away? Is it safe? Any news from your aunt and sister?"

Wang Yacheng gave him a cold glance and pried off his fingers. Picking up the kid who liked to nibble on people's ears, he took the lead in pushing the door open to head out, using actions to show Wang Yizheng that he simply couldn't be bothered to answer such stupid questions.

Under Wang Yacheng's lead, the group of experts twisted and turned, finally exiting through a side door.

Wang Yacheng's timing was indeed extremely precise. That earlier outburst was like an alarm clock going off. As soon as they pushed open the door, they heard a slightly shrill screech of brakes as a row of near-ground mechs stopped one after another.

The two groups linked up seamlessly, wasting no time. Almost without waiting for each other, Wang Yacheng took one minute to push these middle-aged and elderly folks onto the mechs one by one.

He himself brought up the rear. Just as he sat down and poked his head out, a burst of bullets flew over. Wang Yacheng hurriedly withdrew his head and locked the window, telling the pilot, "Go!"

"What was that just now? Has our whereabouts been discovered?" In the back seat of the mech, a white-haired, youthful-looking old lady sitting next to Wang Yizheng asked with some panic.

"No. The fact that they used solid bullets, not lasers or high-energy cannons, means they just saw the mechs and are provoking us as a matter of routine. I reckon they're pirates - if we really chased after them, it's not certain who would beat whom down." Wang Yacheng had already taken being a desperado as a profession and was well-versed in all kinds of emergencies.

In the back, Wang Yizheng looked at him with a complex expression.

Wang Yacheng had no time to pay attention. From the co-pilot's seat, he opened the control panel and deftly plugged in the communication device, "We split up at the intersection ahead. The sequence numbers have been sent to your navigation devices. If the enemy targets you on the way, activate Plan B to escape. Don't get caught up in battle. Stay in contact at all times."

With that, he turned to the pilot and instructed, "We go straight."

If anyone was the most familiar with the surrounding terrain and the times and places different people appeared every day, the cockroaches in the sewers would undoubtedly take first place, with Wang Yacheng coming in second.

He had honed a set of unconventional, cold expressions. He had mastered the detailed strategy for each map—like in the online games he regularly played—to the point where he could operate with his eyes closed. At first glance, he had the bleak bearing of someone who took life and death lightly, directing the near-ground mechs to weave around every obstacle and dart through the city's corners with thrilling precision.

In the end, he successfully completed this round of divine maneuvering, delivering the scientists to the designated location of the security department.

And with that, his brief meeting with Wang Yizheng also came to an end.

The United Nations had established a Scientists' Alliance. After lengthy security checks, risk analyses, and deliberations, they built several secret placement sites on Earth to gradually gather these brains of the UN in batches. The ones Wang Yacheng and his team were escorting were one such group.

Among these experts, there were also some young and strong individuals who had undergone a certain period of space environment training. They would be sent to the cosmic battlefield.

At the temporary shelter, various tasks such as registration and itinerary explanation by the security department were being carried out in an orderly manner. Wang Yacheng was bored and plucked a foxtail grass by the roadside, which was overgrown with weeds due to lack of management, and teased the child he had picked up, whom he called "Bread".

Wang Yizheng walked over, bent down, and tried to have a calm conversation with his son.

"This..." He pointed at the child and asked.

Wang Yacheng didn't even look up. "His name is Bread."

Wang Yizheng: "Whose child is he? Is it legal for you to bring him like this?"

Wang Yacheng: "It's legal. His family is gone. Do you want to take him away?"

Wang Yizheng picked up Bread and sighed, "Children always make people feel hope for tomorrow."

"Oh," Wang Yacheng rubbed his nose and said without any reluctance, "Then he's yours. I can't keep him alive anyway."

Wang Yizheng was stunned for a moment, hearing the implication in his words. He turned his head and looked at his younger son, somewhat at a loss, "You're not coming with me?"

Wang Yacheng's expression was cold. "When did I say I was going with you? I have important things to do."

Both fell silent. Upon careful thought, just like most rebellious sons and helpless fathers, their feelings ran deep but the situation was awkward. On one hand, they relied on each other for survival, but on the other hand, it seemed they had nothing to say except argue.

Wang Yacheng appeared ruthless and heartless, but his heart was far from calm. Suddenly, he remembered that it was the seemingly exploded Space Science Academy that had set him on this path of being a desperado. For such a long time, it was a mouthful of hatred that had supported him, propping him up to crawl forward step by step.

In the midnight dreams, he always fantasized that maybe Wang Yizheng was still alive. If there were no invaders, no war, if he hadn't run away from home, he would still be living the campus life that he found lackluster. How great would that be?

Now half of the fantasy had come true. He could return to his father's side as a teenager, transforming from a terrorist in a gutter to a child protected by his parents. However, Wang Yacheng found that he could no longer go back.

The exploding buildings behind his eyelids, the white-haired old soldiers, the men under the ruins... They were like brands, already seared into his bones.

Wang Yacheng glanced at Wang Yizheng, stood up and patted the dirt off his pants, then walked away without a word. As he walked, he regretted, always feeling that he should have turned his head to say something. In the end, he couldn't think of anything, so he just left like that with regret, under Wang Yizheng's gaze, and boarded the low-altitude mecha.

On Saturn Fortress, after Fu Luo dropped off a group of people staring at each other, she left with her head held high and went straight to Yang Ning's ward.

It was only when Yang Ning was laid up that people truly understood how important he was.

In just a day or two, the door to his ward was nearly worn off its hinges from constant traffic. The big and small matters of Saturn Fortress seemed to have lost their backbone. A group of people lined up in teams to visit their seriously injured chief, often turning the ward into a second conference room with chatter, until the medical director couldn't stand it anymore and drove them all out.

Fu Luo had slipped in when the medical soldiers were changing shifts. Yang Ning was staring out the window. Hearing the movement, he turned his head, smiled at her, and before she could speak, he took the initiative to say, "Here to tell on him?"

Fu Luo: "..."

She suddenly wanted to go out the way she had come in along the wall.

"Find a place to sit yourself. Let him jump around for a couple of days," Yang Ning looked very relaxed and happy. "He can't mobilize our people."

Fu Luo was originally angry, but after sitting down and thinking carefully, it seemed to be the case. A powerful shepherd could herd sheep, cattle, and horses, but no matter how powerful, could he herd a wolf pack?

Back then, the high-end, atmospheric elite troops had been utterly transformed in the beatings and exile, like a noble knight who would throw down a white glove before a duel, worn down by the years into a big hooligan who would rip out hearts like a black tiger and steal peaches like a monkey.

Now, they were claws with wind, teeth with blades, dining on flesh and drinking blood, wild beyond bounds. Except for Yang Ning, no one else could control them.

"While the fortress hasn't been unsealed yet, I also mean to take it slow." Yang Ning said in a still somewhat weak voice, "You know, the small part of the exiled Allied forces we contacted last time has doubled in number recently. Many scattered Allied forces have gathered there, and recently there's news from the ground that traces of the main force of Jupiter's North America at that time may have been found, and they're trying to establish stable contact."

Fu Luo was dumbfounded. What did it mean to know the world while occupying a corner?

Wasn't he supposed to be recovering from serious injuries and not allowing anyone to disturb him? Where did he update his information from?

"There's also reliable news that the countries on Earth are now preparing to establish a space system alliance. The information is incomplete, but it can basically be confirmed that a foreseeable technological revolution is imminent." Yang Ning gave a few low coughs. "Saturn Fortress is well-supplied. You guys did a great job disguising as space pirates in that battle, which must have left a deep impression on the people of the other star system. Rather than going out to attract attention and become a living target, it's better to restrain ourselves for a while. The longer we wait, the more uneasy the enemy will be."

As he spoke, Yang Ning opened the network, and multimedia was projected onto the wall of the ward. It was a video recording.

More than a hundred heads of state of the United Nations each stood under their own national flags, issuing the same voice in different languages - a joint declaration that Earth would never surrender.

They stood solemn and focused, facing the direction from which the souls of the departed returned, facing the fallen mountains and rivers, facing the fleet of warships that stood with their backs to the stars.

Fu Luo thought for a moment and felt that she was indeed a bit impatient.

"Mm, right." Yang Ning seemed to suddenly remember something. He struggled to prop up half of his body and took out a small lapel pin from the decorative breast pocket of his hospital gown. The design was extremely simple: just a small sky-blue bead that blended in with the color of the uniform, making it almost indistinguishable. "Do you like this?"

Fu Luo: "..."

She neither knew how the upright and serious topic had suddenly changed, nor how to answer this maddening question.