The Last X - 45 4.7

Murong Wen woke up to absolute darkness.

Bewildered, he tried to twist his head, but he discovered that he couldn’t move at all. Since the campus was too well-guarded for this to be an attack by an outsider, the most plausible explanation was that he’d been placed in one of the academy’s containment pods, which were designed to monitor the occupant’s brain waves and cut off all external contact. But why would he be stuck here?

Aware that if he was indeed being imprisoned, someone would have been alerted the moment he’d regained consciousness, he hurried to fumble through his memories.

The last scene he could clearly recall was Jin Yongguang’s mecha rushing toward him…His eyes widened as he remembered how he’d then brutally attacked the other boy and had to be knocked senseless repeatedly.

What had happened? Although he was sure that he wouldn’t voluntarily do such a stupid thing, he couldn’t figure out why he’d acted so mindlessly. Breathing deeply, he tried to calm down. The academy wouldn’t let this go easily, but that could work in his favor. A close investigation would turn up what had caused this situation.

Having reassured himself, his face was confident and fearless when the pod was opened.

It was unfortunate, however, that while he’d been passed out, the administration had already finished its review of surveillance logs, blood tests, and witness testimonies, none of which provided any excuse for this student’s behavior—with orders from above, the instructor whom the military had planted in the academy had destroyed any incriminating evidence.

Thus, no matter how much they wished to believe that they hadn’t been deceived by a mere child, in the end the faculty had to accept the truth that either the boy was unstable or vicious. Whatever the case, he couldn’t stay.

Against this backdrop, Murong Wen’s self-righteous expression only worsened the impression all the instructors present had of him. This shameless boy, he thought he could act so deranged, endanger his peers, and still be forgiven? It was just because their Yongguang was a prodigy that their new top student hadn’t been permanently injured! Recalling the amazingly precise, nimble mecha control Yongguang had exhibited during the assessment, their anger at Murong Wen rose.

Snorting, the head of the twelfth-grade teachers stepped forward. Without even releasing the boy from his restraints, he announced, “Murong Wen, for your appalling performance during this quarterly assessment, you are henceforth expelled from the Elite Federation Academy. You will be granted an hour to remove yourself from the premises.”

This was thunder from clear skies! Murong Wen blanched, his façade of composure shattered.

Seeing the crowd turn to leave, however, roused him from his shock. “Teachers, please wait! I’m innocent, someone must be framing me. I swear I had no hand in this, please investigate!”

Without a pause, the group ignored the ludicrous claims and departed.

Only an instructor who’d formerly taught Murong Wen’s afternoon class remained behind to unlock the pod’s binding function. In a half sympathetic, half disappointed tone, he scolded, “Child, everything has long been examined. There was nothing that could justify your conduct.” Finished, he walked out, sighing. He’d expected this pupil of his to go far, who knew he’d turn out to be so burdensome?

Murong Wen couldn’t react, frozen from disbelief. Nothing was found? How could that be? But once the implications sank in, he shuddered, realizing that his questions were pointless anyway. Being expelled didn’t simply mean that he’d have to go back to the poor life he’d led before, that he’d be able to enjoy the same opportunities for growth. With this stain on his record, not to mention the rumors that his peers would take back to their influential families, he would be blacklisted by any elite organization for the rest of his life.

A few minutes later, he sat up. With his current circumstances, he had no choice but to grit his teeth and swallow this injustice, but he swore he wouldn’t let this go.

—

Chen Yu clicked off his communicator, closing the screen that had been showing the protagonist’s frustrated figure.

As expected, the academy calculated well. In the plot, the original owner had been expelled despite his prestigious background due to the opponent’s severe wounds and probably some bribery by Jin Zhong. Now, on the other hand, Jin Jia’s influence and the talented Jin Yongguang’s future prospects had been enough to discard Murong Wen even though he’d caused no real damage.

Well, he supposed that was how this school had maintained its position at the top.

Laughing in his heart, he jumped out of his personal virtual pod, pretending to turn off the recovery assistance mode.

Lounging on his dorm bed was Hou Yi, who had dropped by Jin Yongguang’s room with the excuse that he wanted to see the housing he’d be reassigned to once the new rankings were formalized. When he noticed Ah Guang climbing out, he smiled and slipped his hand out from his pocket. Reaching over to pull him down to the mattress, he affectionately greeted, “Better?”

Chen Yu nodded, then worriedly shook his head. “Ah Yi, what do you think will happen to Ah Wen?”

Hou Yi reflexively tightened his grip on Ah Guang’s wrist, sweeping his eyes down. Ah Wen? Of course he would be eliminated. “Don’t worry, Ah Guang. No matter what happens, you have me.” He reassuringly patted the other boy’s shoulder but didn’t continue the subject, distracting him with an analysis of the filmed assessment trials.

Hours passed, the two boys chatted cheerfully until it was time for the dormitory to be closed to guests. When the automatic broadcast rang out, Hou Yi reluctantly stood up to leave, turning back at the door to casually embrace Ah Guang and brush his hand across his neck. Finally, he motioned for Ah Guang to go in.

Chen Yu waved back with a clueless grin, once the door was closed, an exasperated look crossed his face as he rubbed his wrist. Truly his good lover ah, slipping in not one, not two, but three nano-recording devices. If he hadn’t felt the slight tingle when they were inserted, he would never have suspected the ploy. Scrutinizing his unblemished skin, he curled his lips, resolving to award Hou Yi a little present.

Later that night, Hou Yi was back in his villa attempting to review his assessment match against Ah Guang. His focus, however, constantly strayed to the side, where a hologram projection of Ah Guang’s sleeping form was streaming. He’d honestly used the general’s personally gifted supervision equipment as a precaution, in case the military took action against Ah Guang without prior notice, not caring about the consequences of blatantly misappropriating resources—after all, he wasn’t officially of age to carry out missions, so records of what tools he’d been allocated couldn’t be documented.

But somehow, the move he’d made purely to protect Ah Guang had turned into a guilty pleasure.

This was because apparently, Ah Guang was a restless sleeper. While he tossed and turned, his pajama shirt was pushed higher and higher to reveal his beautiful mermaid lines, and his shorts that barely covered his slender thighs scrunched up around his round hips. Watching one of those long legs kick the blanket off, Hou Yi’s mouth dried. Ah Guang’s pants were so loose that the motion had almost caused his secret parts to be bared.

Clearing his throat, Hou Yi was sliding his hand toward his stiff length when suddenly, a message popped up on his communicator, interrupting his view. Although he quickly closed it, he was too late. Ah Guang had already dragged the blanket onto the bed again. Unbeknownst to him, while he was sadly waiting for another peek, Chen Yu was silently laughing under the covers.

After a while, Hou Yi gave up then glared at the memo. His father was notifying him that the military had designated Jin Yongguang as its new access point; to implement this plan, someone had been dispatched to speak with the boy tomorrow.

Considering the significance of this, Hou Yi frowned. That he hadn’t been instructed to carry out the task himself indicated that the general was suspicious of him due to his unforeseen failure, but the fact that he’d been informed in the first place meant that he hadn’t actually been exposed. The issue was that those old geezers had presumed to pull Ah Guang into their schemes…

Eyes cold, he acknowledged the message, tapping his fingers.

The next day, Chen Yu was called out of his morning class to meet with a visitor. Since the academy usually wouldn’t allow such disruptions to a student’s schedule, Chen Yu guessed that the military had applied pressure in order to urgently replace Murong Wen with Jin Yongguang. So when he stepped into a private office space to find a soldier waiting for him, he very smoothly affected a look of worshipful surprise.

Without any reaction to the boy’s admiration, the soldier coolly beckoned him to the seat across the desk then directly narrated, “Cadet, as a captain in the military’s First Division, I have been tasked with informing you of the crimes your parents have committed against the Federation of Taiyi Galaxy and offering you a way to make reparations.”

Chen Yu scratched his head confusedly, but without waiting for him to speak, the man proceeded to present proof after proof of Jin Zhong’s treasonous activities for half an hour. At last, having thoroughly ground down Jin Yongguang’s faith in his family, he proposed, “Despite the fact that your parents’ actions have resulted in the deaths of tens of thousands of Federation soldiers, the military leaders have graciously allowed you a way to redeem yourself.”

Jin Yongguang was too aghast at what his dear family had done, he could only stare blankly at the captain. Although he didn’t receive a reply, the soldier, who’d sensed that the boy had been shaken, plowed on. “All you have to do is follow our instructions, occasionally feed some false information to your parents, and, if an opportunity comes up, pretend that you’re willing to assist them.”

Several minutes of quiet ensued. At last, Jin Yongguang spoke. “But…sir, if you have all this evidence, why haven’t you arrested them?”

The captain’s wooden face nearly cracked. Was the boy really this stupid? No, no, this was a job, he had to remain professional. Thus, suppressing his incredulity, he answered, “There have been traces of other disloyal citizens, yet to be identified, conspiring with them. With your cooperation, the military will locate them and root out all the traitors.”

Chen Yu found this man a bit funny, so he dragged out the conversation, emphasizing his artlessness. To hide his grief, he drooped his head, but his hunched figure ‘unknowingly’ exuded depression from every pore.

It had to be said that this simple-minded image perfectly pushed the soldier’s buttons. The soldier ultimately couldn’t contain his impatience and prompted, “Cadet, have you understood your parents’ crimes?”

Jin Yongguang dully dipped his chin in acknowledgment.

“And are you prepared to make the honorable choice?”

The boy raised a remorseful face. “Sir, it isn’t that I don’t want to help. It’s just…I’m not very good at lying.”

Coughing, the captain covered his mouth with his fist to prevent blood from spewing out, he had to forcefully push down his desire to spit out, “Cadet, this soldier isn’t blind, there’s no need to point out the obvious.” But actually, this wasn’t a trivial factor, he didn’t have the authority to decide whether such a fool could be used. So he solemnly avoided committing himself and responded, “In that case, the military will assess your potential and issue any commands within 24 hours.”

Having accomplished his task, he swiftly escaped the infuriatingly foolish boy and headed to face General Hou’s son.

Along the way, he wondered at how two children with such similar backgrounds, ages, and even skill levels could be so different. One was a stupid egg, whereas the other was a full-grown python. One was fearsome in his slow-wittedness, the other in his cleverness. Remembering how he’d once witnessed Hou Yi indifferently observe the strategy he’d devised wipe out whole cities without a twitch, the battle-hardened captain quaked in his boots.

Of course, the poor man was deluded.

After he’d left, the Jin Yongguang weighed down by dejection disappeared immediately, in his place was a boy lazily leaning back and humming, a mischievous smile on his face. Since the military hoped to exploit him, Chen Yu would naturally return the favor.

At least the captain’s evaluation of Hou Yi was accurate. As he’d predicted, even with an hour of interrogation, he couldn’t find any holes in Hou Yi’s defense. Aware that he was no match for the boy, he didn’t persist, he followed military convention and speedily transferred the problem to someone else.

“General Hou, Hou Yi’s story checks out, it seems that the drug used has been shown to very rarely cause mania in weaker patients. Murong Wen’s history of excellent academic and physical performance would normally preclude such sensitivity.”

Sighing, the general’s holographic image merely gestured for him to move on. In reality, both of them could perceive that there was more to this incident than met the eye, but if Hou Yi plotted to hide something, they would likely never uncover it. It was better not to waste time.

Relieved that the general didn’t insist on a thorough inquiry, the captain dutifully reported, “Jin Yongguang has also been convinced to comply with orders…”

Hearing him trail off, the general frowned. “What’s the issue, captain? Was there something suspicious about him?”

The soldier shook his head. “My concern isn’t that the boy is traitorous but rather that he’s too much of a straight shooter, sir. I’m not certain that he’ll be able to appropriately handle a sensitive assignment like this.”

General Hou silently considered the matter. The man wasn’t wrong, from the information he’d read, this Jin Yongguang was indeed a plainspoken character. After some deliberation, however, he dismissed the issue. “If he’s discovered, we’ll just dispose of him and come up with a new approach.”

Since the general had spoken, the captain wouldn’t dare to disagree. As he saluted and signed off, he briefly thought that it was too bad they had to risk a boy who, by all indications, could well become the next star mecha operator.

But the regret flickered down in an instant, buried by obligations and experience.