Picking Up An Alpha On Garbage Star - Chapter 27 Open and Honest

Pei An uncomfortably averted his gaze.

 

The thought of facing each other in battle was too unsettling. Pei An’s heart, for the first time, seemed to disobey him, beating excessively, as though it was no longer a fluttering deer but one that had met its end.

 

Xie Yu’s gaze remained fixed on him, an intense presence. With Pei An’s mental strength, even if he tried to ignore it, he couldn’t. He had to reluctantly meet Xie Yu’s gaze.

 

“Don’t worry; I won’t engage in hostilities with you.”

 

They decided to take a page from the book of wise strategists and maintain a respectful social distance.

 

Pei An’s AI saved him from the awkward silence. The uprising had ended, and it was time for Pei An to take charge of his duties.

 

“So, um…” Pei An invited Xie Yu, “Would you like to come with me to see it?”

 

For a moment, they set aside their opposing roles, just like good friends.

 

Xie Yu agreed, “Sure.” To be honest, after spending some time on DS009, he could sense the oppression and injustice here. He genuinely wanted to see how Pei An would break the old order and establish a new one.

 

Pei An wore a high-collared shirt to cover the bite marks on his neck and sprayed some blocking mist to ensure no one would notice anything unusual before leaving.

 

The place they were heading to was the Administrative Office. Pei An had ordered a section of it to be demolished with a C1 bomb, but it wouldn’t affect its overall functionality. He had prepared a clean office for himself to use.

 

As the newly appointed leader, his first task was to expose the crimes of Fan Wen.

 

“Boss, did you bring someone with you?” Yi Rui, temporarily serving as Pei An’s secretary, ran over to greet him when he arrived. However, when the driver’s side door opened, Xie Yu stepped out.

 

Yi Rui couldn’t help but wonder why the boss had brought Xie Yu along.

 

Pei An nodded without explaining and went straight into work mode, “Has the statement been issued?”

 

Yi Rui responded, “It’s been released, and there are designated personnel answering questions. The public’s reaction is generally positive, with people applauding the change in leadership. However, some are concerned about the possibility of a military attack from the Empire, and their numbers are not insignificant.”

 

“Then send more messages to reassure the public that there won’t be any war on this land.”

 

Even if they had to fight, it would be in space, without jeopardizing the planet.

 

“Understood. In addition, the individuals arrested by Jin Feng, the patrons Fan Wen and others, have not been released by the police and are still in custody.”

 

“Have the victims identify them. Based on the severity of the crimes, those who have caused significant harm to others should be executed.”

 

Pei An moved quickly. It didn’t take long for him to reach his temporary office, which had been completely cleared of unnecessary items. The office now contained only a desk, chairs, cabinets, and a light computer.

 

Yi Rui, after delivering the news, hurried off to handle her tasks, leaving only Pei An and Xie Yu in the office.

 

As Xie Yu walked over, he observed everything. He noticed that despite the fact that Pei An’s subordinates were all armed, they didn’t appear tense or hostile as they bustled about in the Administrative Office. It was clear that they were not only skilled in combat.

 

“Three small asteroids have risen in revolt. It won’t be long before the Moran Stellar System’s central administrative office becomes aware of it, Pei An. What do you plan to do then?” Xie Yu pulled a chair and sat opposite Pei An.

 

“The central administrative office of the Moran Galaxy only has a security force and no military. Their security force is not formidable, and they won’t dare to confront us head-on. So, I only need to watch out for the Empire’s military.”

 

But the truth was that the Empire’s military would be marching into the Moran Galaxy tomorrow.

 

“Although it’s a rebellion, we aren’t planning to attack a fortress with eggs. What we want is autonomy.”

 

“Autonomy?” Xie Yu was puzzled.

 

Pei An smiled, “That’s right, just autonomy.”

 

The Moran Galaxy’s most significant power structures were the Imperial Family, the Parliament, and the Military. The Parliament, composed of nobles, was aligned with the Imperial Family, and they naturally protected each other’s interests. In the Moran Galaxy’s administrative work, nobles occupied positions of power. These nobles were the massive boulders pressing down on the Moran Galaxy’s population. Only by removing this boulder called nobility could the people of the Moran Galaxy truly gain their freedom.

 

Don’t look at Fan Wen’s hypocrisy; behind it, he represents the power of the nobility. Even the smallest noble is beyond the reach of ordinary citizens. As for the ruling elites, they are only concerned with consolidating their own interests. To truly secure their interests, they need to intertwine the interests of their group with those of the entire country, with no distinction.

 

To break free from noble rule, you can’t let the nobility hold political power. Attempting to reorganize the Parliament directly is an unrealistic idea. However, abolishing the rule of nobility on a small, remote planet would be much more feasible.

 

“Even if the nobility’s power is great, they can’t silence all the people. Once the public witnesses the benefits of autonomy and understands the drawbacks of noble rule, they will naturally revolt against the nobility. The Empire may ignore the opinions of a few individuals or even a planet’s population, but they can’t disregard the opinions of hundreds of millions, or even billions of people.”

 

Pei An spoke with enthusiasm when discussing his thoughts on restructuring administrative power. He genuinely hoped that the vast population could lead better lives.

 

Xie Yu asked, “So, how do you plan to negotiate with the Empire? We don’t have millions of people speaking up at the moment.”

 

Pei An turned his gaze towards Xie Yu. “Well, we have you, don’t we?”

 

Xie Yu was puzzled. He pointed to himself, “You mean me?”

 

Pei An confirmed, “Exactly, it’s you.”

 

Xie Yu became intrigued, “Why? What role can I play?”

 

“You are a Major General, and there aren’t many Major Generals in the entire Lyte Empire,” Pei An said.

 

Xie Yu’s voice rose by two degrees, “How did you know that?” He had only mentioned being a military officer to Pei An.

 

Pei An, with lowered eyelashes, took a small gift box from his pocket, about the size of his palm, and handed it to Xie Yu. “Major General Xie, this is yours, I’m returning it to you.”

 

Xie Yu received it in a daze, opened the box, and inside were two neatly polished epaulets, looking brand new.

 

These were Xie Yu’s epaulets, which Pei An had taken from the exploded spaceship when he rescued Xie Yu.

 

Xie Yu was stunned for a while, and he gently touched his epaulets, his emotions complex.

 

“Pei An, you’ve been hiding this from me for so long.”

 

Pei An smiled, “Well, isn’t this me being open and honest with you?”

 

Xie Yu understood that Pei An’s concealment was the right choice, as Pei An couldn’t be sure of the consequences if he had revealed it earlier.

 

Moreover, Pei An didn’t just keep his epaulets but also meticulously cleaned them, making them look brand new.

 

“Can you tell me what happened on the day you saved me?” Xie Yu put away the epaulets and asked earnestly.

 

He had thousands of comrades on the military spaceship that day, all of them like brothers and sisters, and he couldn’t let them die without obtaining justice for them. Before that, he wanted to know the extent of the catastrophe after the spaceship exploded.

 

“In fact, I didn’t pick you up from DS009; I found you on the destroyed spaceship.” Pei An had decided to reveal everything to Xie Yu and recounted the truth, word by word.

 

“After the spaceship you were on exploded, I went there with my team and searched the entire ship. The only survivor was you. I thought you might still be useful and could potentially benefit me, so I brought you back to DS009. As for the others on the spaceship, they were mostly in a terrible state.”

 

Xie Yu closed his eyes, overwhelmed with sadness. Out of the thousands of people, only he had survived, and it was his subordinate’s conscience that had spared his life. But Xie Yu knew well that if Pei An hadn’t taken his team to the exploded spaceship, he wouldn’t have had a chance to survive.

 

The entire spaceship was completely destroyed, and there was no time even to activate emergency response commands or separate the ship’s hull. Even if he was placed in the escape pod, there was no guarantee of survival. The rapid destruction of the spaceship, coupled with the failure of the escape pod ejection system, meant that those left in unlaunched escape pods would face certain death upon awakening.

 

If Xie Yu had woken up on the spaceship, he would have been confronted with a completely destroyed ship with no oxygen supply. The absence of functioning life support systems would have made his situation dire, and with the spaceship’s propulsion system damaged, he would have had no way to escape. He would have been left to wait for death on the spaceship.

 

So, in essence, Pei An had saved Xie Yu’s life.

 

After taking a moment with his eyes closed, Xie Yu opened them again and asked, “What happened to the spaceship?”

 

“A spaceship that large drifting in space is not a concern. I had it towed away, and we salvaged some materials that could still be used. As for your subordinates, I had them cremated and given a proper burial.”

 

Pei An, forged by the trials of the post-apocalyptic world, possessed both a ruthless side and a compassionate side. He was ruthless toward individuals like Lu Changhui and Fan Wen, but he felt compassion for the innocent military personnel who died on the spaceship.

 

Soldiers should die in battle, not be pawns in political machinations.

 

Xie Yu was stunned. He hadn’t expected Pei An to go this far.

 

“Pei An, thank you.” Xie Yu stood up and gave Pei An a military salute.

 

Pei An, not a military man, didn’t return the salute but urged Xie Yu to sit down.

 

“You’re thanking me too soon; I still have a request for you.” Pei An smiled casually. “Xie Yu, Major General Xie, regarding autonomy, I hope you can assist.”

 

Xie Yu asked, “I’d like to hear the details.”

 

“Moran Galaxy is located in a remote area, and it’s separated from the central star by an unknown number of light-years. Even if the central star sends troops, it will take a considerable amount of time. During this period, I’ll do my best to make the people feel the benefits of autonomy. However, Major General Xie, I hope you can publicly support autonomy.”

 

Pei An was serious. Autonomy wasn’t just about him; it was about DS009, the Moran Galaxy, and the entire Lyte Empire.

 

A small piece of wood grows in the thickness of a hair; a nine-story tower rises from a heap of earth. Once local autonomy is recognized, and people see that those with autonomy are living better than before, others will want autonomy too, and the nobility’s grip on power will weaken.

 

“Your desire isn’t just for the Moran Galaxy’s autonomy, is it?” Xie Yu, though not a political expert, could see Pei An’s true intentions.

 

Pei An openly admitted, “That’s right.”

 

He continued, “Don’t you want to bring about change? In the interstellar age, there’s no need for all-encompassing nobility. The nobles have extended their reach too far. The Lyte Empire is only fifty years old, and its corruption is already evident. If this continues, the ones who will suffer are the most numerous—the common people.”

 

Within the Lyte Empire, what can be circulated, what cannot, is entirely determined by the nobility and those who hold power, which is far from fair. Take suppressants, for example. They’re relatively new medications, and there are some flaws in their development. While there are valid reasons for not allowing people to buy suppressants freely or requiring identification for purchase, even in the most remote and impoverished areas, suppressants should be available, and efforts should be made to lower their prices. Otherwise, distant star system inhabitants are left to fend for themselves, suffering through heats without proper relief.

 

As someone who had endured eight years of heats unassisted, Pei An knew firsthand how unbearable they could be. Omegas would suffer greatly when deprived of relief and could face serious health risks. Many omegas were forced to find alphas to temporarily bond with or betas who wouldn’t bond them just to relieve their heat.

 

Not everyone had a partner, and this was the injustice caused by suppressants.

 

Apart from suppressants, there were many controlled substances with exorbitant prices that could be life-threatening, and those profiting from these were the nobility who wielded power. They had the authority to amass wealth, which they used to maintain their unassailable positions.

 

Pei An connected his AI to the mainframe and opened a folder. “Major General Xie, take a look at this.”

 

Xie Yu stood up and walked behind Pei An, asking, “What is it?”

 

Pei An opened the first file in the folder, revealing a design blueprint.

 

“This is a school I had someone design,” he explained.

 

“A school?” Xie Yu inquired. “Are you planning to build a school to alleviate the burden of education?”

 

Pei An nodded, enlarging the design blueprint. Each part was clearly labeled, including the main entrance, well-lit teaching buildings, a playground, cafeteria, and sports hall.

 

“In the Lyte Empire, except for military academies, all schools are private, and their tuition fees are exorbitant. Many families can’t afford to send their children to these schools. As a result, many children can only complete their basic education, and some can’t even afford to finish middle school.”

 

Pei An himself attended public schools, where he received nine years of compulsory education without paying a single yuan in tuition. High school was also in a public school, with nominal fees that were less than his monthly living expenses. In college, he had a scholarship, so he hadn’t spent much money on his education.

 

The schools in the Lyte Empire were massive money-making machines. From kindergarten to university, each stage had high tuition fees. The wealthy didn’t mind these costs and would send their children to high-quality schools, ensuring that they would remain in the upper echelons of society. However, for those without means, they would never have the opportunity to set foot in a university.

 

Furthermore, the Lyte Empire did not offer scholarships. This meant that even talented students from humble backgrounds had little chance to gain an education through academic achievement.

 

“Major General Xie, I want to ask you a question.” Pei An turned halfway around. “What, in your opinion, should a school be for?”

 

Xie Yu responded without hesitation, “Naturally, a school should be a place to educate people.”

 

Pei An turned back and showed Xie Yu a 3D model of the school from the design blueprint. The school was designed beautifully, with a spacious entrance, well-lit classrooms, a campus with a playground, cafeteria, and a sports hall.

 

“A school is a place to educate people, but what kind of people should it educate, and for whom should it educate them? Have you ever thought about that?”

 

Regardless of the type of individuals to be educated, it should not be limited to the wealthy alone. And it shouldn’t be for the benefit of a select few; it should be for the good of the entire nation.

 

Xie Yu’s gaze deepened as he realized that Pei An had more ideals than he had imagined.

 

He had witnessed parliamentarians in heated debates, but in the end, they were all pursuing their own interests. Their arguments weren’t typically about issues that were beneficial to the nation, so he couldn’t remember any of the details.

 

In comparison, Pei An was shining like a star in the darkness.

 

“I created this design a long time ago, back when I didn’t have as many ulterior motives. I wanted to apply for land to build a school. Of course, my application was rejected because all of DS009’s schools had already been claimed. What I was doing seemed like an attempt to seize their resources, and Fan Wen would never grant me land. I couldn’t just take it by force either, so the plan to build the school was put on hold.”

 

Pei An pulled up the project proposal for the school from the folder, all of which he had worked on with the help of professionals. Despite not having been implemented, it was apparent that the design of both the school and the project proposal were well-prepared.

 

“When the 286th Legion withdraws from the Moran Galaxy, I’ll start building the school,” Pei An concluded, with a touch of pheromone in his tone that signified his excitement.

 

Xie Yu was right beside Pei An, and he immediately detected the pheromones. They couldn’t be faked. “You showed me this because you want my help,” Xie Yu said softly.

 

Pei An pushed the table away, and his chair swiveled around, positioning him face to face with Xie Yu. The tall alpha was standing, while the omega was sitting, and in terms of physical safety, this was a risky position. An alpha could easily bend down to enclose an omega within their arms.

 

But neither was willing to avoid the closeness.

 

So, with one above and the other below, their gazes collided.

 

“Major General Xie, are you willing to help me?” Pei An’s eyes curved in a smile.

 

Xie Yu stood tall with his hands behind his back, his gaze slightly lowered, entwined with the audacious omega’s eyes. “Mr. Pei, do you realize you’re trying to turn an Imperial Major General against the Empire?”

 

Pei An extended his right hand to the Imperial Major General. “Will Major General Xie stand with me on the same side?”

 

Pei An had never expected to challenge the vast Lyte Empire with just his limited resources. He was aiming to undermine the interests of the nobility, who were now the true rulers of the Lyte Empire. He needed allies, many like-minded allies.

 

Initially, he had thought of letting Xie Yu leave, keeping their paths separate. After all, he had used Xie Yu for his own purposes in dealing with the 286th Legion and expelling them from the Moran Galaxy.

 

But he had changed his mind. He was afraid that he would never find someone like Xie Yu again, someone who shared his ideals.

 

Paths that don’t intersect don’t form alliances. He believed that his path and Xie Yu’s might not be so different.

 

Xie Yu watched Pei An’s right hand, those hands distinct from the pampered omegas on Central Star. They weren’t delicate, bearing the visible signs of hard work and struggle.

 

People often said that omegas were fragile and needed coddling, but in reality, only a minority of omegas were fortunate enough to be pampered. Many omegas had to work to earn a living, and many of them had to do strenuous jobs. Flower arranging and dog-walking were a tiny minority among them.

 

Pei An represented the majority of omegas, and he was unique among omegas. He was insightful, capable, and charismatic. He was a protector of many marginalized groups, and he was strong, capable of eliminating the notorious scarred criminals.

 

Xie Yu gripped the hand that was different from the others. After meeting Pei An, he had been in a constant process of self-reflection. He felt that compared to Pei An, he lacked some courage.

 

Why be timid and cautious? He was the heir to the Third Corps. If he couldn’t be a bit bolder, more people would be held back by fear.

 

Besides, he had been irritated by those idle nobles for a long time.

 

“Congratulations, you’ve successfully turned me,” Xie Yu remarked.

 

Their hands were tightly clasped, even though they still carried each other’s pheromones, and only a few hours earlier, they had been intimately marking each other temporarily. But now, they held each other’s hands so tightly, devoid of personal emotions.

 

They clasped hands as teammates, allies, and partners.

 

“Major General Xie, let’s work together.” Pei An smiled.

 

Xie Yu raised an eyebrow. “You’d better call me by my name instead of ‘Major General.’ It’s getting awkward.”

 

After all, they were now in the same trench, and their relationship felt less intimate than before.

 

“Xie Yu,” Pei An called softly.