Sir, do you want the pheromones? - Chapter 14

Wen Yu was startled by the trembling, repressed voice from Pei Xingyu. He turned his head, seeing Jin Ran jumping out like that, nearly scaring the life out of him. He involuntarily shouted, “Jin Ran!!”

 

Pei Xingyu’s pupils contracted, and his fingers clenched tightly, his breathing nearly breaking apart.

 

The protective suit had a simulated gravity device and a small propulsion unit, capable of maintaining sufficient gravity in space. Jin Ran’s jump landed precisely on the deck, rolling twice before getting up.

 

Pei Xingyu breathed a sigh of relief, feeling his heart drop heavily to the ground with a thud, causing a sharp pain. Simultaneously, a surge of suppressed anger began to rise.

 

What does he think he’s doing? Sacrificing himself for me at a time like this? Does he have any idea how serious this is!?

 

The “White Wings” slowly moved forward and then disappeared into the darkness, likely entering the space pod.

 

Pei Xingyu’s palm was slightly damp, and he quickly locked the space pod door again before striding back to the control console. His fingers seemed to tremble as he spoke in a deep voice into the communicator, “Jin Ran, stay put and don’t mess around.”

 

After a pause, he added, “Listen to me.”

 

As soon as Jin Ran entered the space pod, he heard Pei Xingyu’s somewhat unclear voice through the communicator. He took off his helmet and tossed it aside, quickly removing his protective suit. Now wearing a crisp military uniform, he walked to the control console.

 

“Mm, I’m listening,” Jin Ran replied nonchalantly, then glanced at Zhou Peng, who was sitting at the cockpit, hands shaking in tension.

 

“You’re Officer Zhou Peng, right?”

 

“Why is it you?” Zhou Peng’s eyes widened, looking behind him. “Where’s the commander?”

 

“Stop looking, he’s not here.” Jin Ran reached out, pulling him from the control console and shoving him over to the auxiliary controls. Rubbing his wrist, he sat down, saying, “What kind of fighting is this? Watch me.”

 

“Jin Ran!”

 

Jin Ran grabbed the communicator, holding it up to his mouth. He raised his voice, saying, “I’ve got you covered. Hurry and jump. If you don’t go now, I’ll ram their battleship and take them down with me. Protect your Bu Yu. So important, right?”

 

Hearing this, Pei Xingyu’s heart clenched, “Don’t mess around!” he barked, pulling Wen Yu up and personally taking the helm. “Jin Ran, if you act recklessly, you’ll face military law when we return to Ziwei Yuan!”

 

Pei Xingyu could almost imagine Jin Ran’s expression at this moment—defiant, smiling, wild, and bold. Threats and scolding meant nothing to him.

 

Controlling the battle-worn mecha, Pei Xingyu swiftly boosted the propulsion system. At the same time as he launched two phase cannons, he increased the interference frequency and fired all the remaining ion cannons in one go.

 

The defense grid, already on the verge of collapse, lit up with red warning lights. Pei Xingyu’s eyes narrowed as he focused on the precise controls, while Wen Yu held the edge of the table, barely daring to breathe. Zhang Zhou and Bu Yu were already too dizzy from the shaking of the space pod to speak.

 

Suddenly, the escort ship fired two laser cannons. The blinding light exploded abruptly, with countless beams of energy instantly targeting the massive medium-sized mechas, destroying the incoming enemy missiles and creating an even larger explosion of fire.

 

Taking advantage of this small window, Pei Xingyu pushed the ship’s power to maximum. As Wen Yu shivered and covered his head, they forcefully shot through the jump point.

 

Outside, Jin Ran watched through the external mental network as Pei Xingyu had already piloted the ship through the jump point. He snorted, “Tch, quick to run.”

 

Zhou Peng, who had been pushed to the auxiliary console, reached out to pull him back. “Jin Ran, stop fooling around! This isn’t a holographic simulation; this is real war! If you mess up, we’re all done for. Get up and let me take over!”

 

Jin Ran casually took his hands off the console, turning to him, “Alright, so how are you planning to fight them?”

 

Zhou Peng looked at the sharp alert on the external network showing they were being locked on by high-energy particle beams, his scalp tingling. He shouted, “Hey! Don’t let go now! Is this the time for chit-chat?!”

 

“Want to take over?”

 

Zhou Peng quickly ran through his thoughts. Commander Pei wasn’t here right now, and this was his first time encountering such a crisis. To be honest, Jin Ran’s maneuvers just now, covering the commander’s jump, were pretty solid.

 

“Forget it, you handle it.”

 

Jin Ran refocused, straightening up. He fired a phase cannon, intending to avoid the shockwave and debris from the explosion. But they were, after all, outgunned—alone against at least three medium-sized mechas fully loaded with weapons.

 

As he spoke, Jin Ran glanced at the star map, not confronting them head-on but instead steering the mecha to dodge and flee.

 

Debris from the explosion crashed into the mecha with a sharp, piercing sound. Zhou Peng reflexively closed his eyes before quickly opening them again. Fighting through the pain and nausea in his ears, he checked the mecha’s damage report.

 

Two-thirds of the propulsion system was damaged, the outer defense grid had triggered red alerts, and it looked like it was about to fail. Their weapons were down to less than a third, and the ship was getting farther and farther from the jump point.

 

“Jin Ran, what are you doing?!”

 

Zhou Peng screamed, watching as Jin Ran piloted the ship farther away from the jump point. With their weapons nearly depleted, they were left with only one option. Was he planning for all of them to die here?

 

Jin Ran squinted, his vision not great. The darkness made it hard to see much.

 

“Is that the Hall Space Station up ahead?”

 

Zhou Peng had no idea why he was asking this. He replied blankly, “Yeah, but what good does the space station do? It’s only got research and collection robots. Are you thinking of hiding there? Don’t even think about it—there’s no way it can conceal us!”

 

Jin Ran’s lips curled into a grin as he adjusted the controls, locking the targeting system onto the massive Hall Space Station and firing three powerful phase cannons in quick succession.

 

The space station, pure and pristine like a white lotus floating in the darkness, glimmered brightly. But it couldn’t remain so clean.

 

Jin Ran grinned, leisurely watching as it was blown to pieces.

 

Zhou Peng nearly passed out. “That’s the Hall Space Station! Why waste weapons on that?! Have you lost your mind? Do you know what kind of crime it is to destroy a space station? Jin Ran, are you insane?!”

 

Jin Ran replied, “I’m not crazy. I want to live.”

 

Zhou Peng felt a chill spread through him as he clenched his hands, muttering, “Ziwei Yuan, fight till death, united in purpose, never retreat.”

 

Jin Ran instantly got annoyed at this—sounded like a burial chant. “What do you mean, ‘fight till death, united in purpose, never retreat’? Who wants to die? Go chant that somewhere else.”

 

Zhou Peng watched as the once pristine space station exploded into fiery fragments, charred pieces scattering into the darkness, disappearing forever.

 

“Hall set up a space station here, not just for gathering data. It must be monitoring something—probably you guys from Ziwei Yuan. We’ve been under attack, and you’ve already sent a distress signal but haven’t gotten a response. I’m guessing the ones attacking us aren’t just some random space pirates.” Jin Ran, clearly not wanting to hear more of this, held back his temper and explained, “Blow up their space station, and the nearest garrison will definitely rush over.”

 

Zhou Peng opened his mouth. “What do you mean?”

 

Jin Ran, exasperated, replied, “You’re not seriously thinking you can force a jump like Pei Xingyu did with this busted light frigate of yours, right? Wake up. No one’s covering us anymore.”

 

Zhou Peng finally understood. The brief moment earlier was Jin Ran using himself as a shield to buy time. Now that they were exposed to enemy targeting, there was no way they could jump—they’d likely get blown apart right at the jump point.

 

Zhou Peng instinctively asked, “So what do we do now?”

 

Jin Ran said, “Swallow that unlucky catchphrase of yours, and I guarantee you won’t die.”

 

Zhou Peng looked unconvinced, so Jin Ran added, “We wait for the nearest garrison to come to our aid. In the meantime, run as much as you can. We can’t take them head-on. A boiled egg is no match for a stone.”

 

“Commander!” A panicked deputy rushed through the door, forgetting to even salute as he shouted, “Commander, something’s wrong! Something’s happened to the commander!”

 

“Who’s in trouble?!” The skinny, tanned man threw his papers aside and hurried out, his eyebrows raised like a wound-up, energetic top.

 

“Who’s in trouble, who’s in trouble? Which commander’s in trouble?”

 

Seeing the commander’s excitement, the deputy wiped his brow and quickly replied, “It’s not the commander who’s in trouble. It’s not a person—it’s…”

 

The deputy grew more flustered, unable to explain clearly. This top officer of the *Tianyi* was named Mei Pu, a commander who was more reckless than his subordinates.

 

Usually, when everyone was reluctant to take on a mess or deploy forces, Mei Pu would step up, all fired up with a “You won’t go? I will!” attitude.

 

This made him particularly unpopular with Minister Lian Jinfeng, who promptly reassigned him to guard a space station. Yet, somehow, the station had been blown up right under his nose!

 

Any hopes of returning from this exile seemed distant now.

 

Mei Pu, confused by his deputy’s nonsensical report, grabbed him by the shoulders and demanded, “Who’s in trouble?”

 

“The space station! The space station’s been blown up!” The deputy finally caught his breath and handed the monitoring data over to Commander Mei, anxiously saying, “This was our space station, and now it’s destroyed! How are we supposed to explain this to the Galactic Federation?”

 

Before the deputy could finish, Mei Pu’s personal communicator rang. He stood bolt upright, answering the call.

 

Lian Jinfeng’s voice came through, booming with fury. Even the teacups on the desk rattled, “Mei Pu! I gave you one job—to guard a space station—and you couldn’t even manage that! It was blown up right under your nose! What use are you?!”

 

Mei Pu instantly replied, “Minister, I’ll investigate the situation immediately!”

 

Lian Jinfeng grew even angrier. “Do you even know who blew it up? It was Ziwei Yuan’s missiles! I stationed you there to monitor Pei Xingyu’s movements, and now you’ve let him blow up the whole station! Are you blind?!”

 

Mei Pu’s face flushed with shame as he sternly replied, “I acknowledge my mistake!”

 

Lian Jinfeng, seething with rage, was practically giving himself a headache. He hadn’t placed a space station there just to gather data. And this incompetent fool, Mei Pu, couldn’t even handle such a simple task!

 

“So, are we just going to do nothing now?” Mei Pu asked.

 

Lian Jinfeng snapped again, “Do nothing? The space station’s destruction has already been reported back to Hall. Get your troops moving to support Ziwei Yuan! Do you want to be accused of not only failing to guard the station but also being slow to deploy?”

 

Mei Pu straightened up even more and saluted sharply, “Yes, sir!”

 

Lian Jinfeng didn’t even want to look at this simple-minded fool any longer. Everyone else saw this assignment as a mess, but Mei Pu jumped at the chance. He didn’t care if it was a suicide mission; he just charged in headfirst.

 

As soon as Mei Pu disconnected the call, he turned to his deputy, “Tell Moru to get ready. We’re heading to the space station.”

 

—

 

Jin Ran, piloting the warship, didn’t engage the enemy directly but instead kept fleeing, darting around with no regard for appearances, a stark contrast to the madman who’d just blown up the space station minutes ago.

 

Zhou Peng, confused, asked, “Is this really going to work?”

 

Jin Ran, squinting as he watched the nearly depleted external defense grid, didn’t reply. Everyone in Ziwei Yuan knew about his poor eyesight, his missing S-grade pheromones, and the fact that he was missing a pinky finger. Zhou Peng was aware of these facts, too.

 

He wasn’t quite sure if he could trust Jin Ran—especially since Jin had actually dared to blow up Hall’s space station. That was just too insane!

 

No normal person would even think of such a thing, and even if they did, they wouldn’t dare act on it.

 

But Jin Ran dared.

 

He didn’t hesitate at all, blowing up the station with effortless precision, even firing a laser cannon afterward to celebrate, like setting off fireworks, whistling as the station crumbled.

 

Zhou Peng thought he might die here before any reinforcements arrived—scared to death by Jin Ran. He tried to calm his racing heart as he adapted to Jin’s wild maneuvering, but then suddenly, the communicator crackled to life.

 

Amidst the static, Pei Xingyu’s cold voice cut through the noise like a bolt from the blue.

 

“Zhou Peng, try docking with the supply drop.”

 

Zhou Peng’s back stiffened, eyes wide as he stared at the neural network monitor. “S-S-Sir! How are you back?!”