VAP - Chapter 118
Chapter 118: The Marshal's Journey is the Sea of Stars (14)
There was still over a month until the end of the semester, and Yue Du had finished integrating and processing all the information she had obtained.
Nothing is ever perfect, and the Federation’s system was no exception. With careful sifting, one could find quite a few loopholes, originating from various sectors and concealed by different people.
But what government didn’t have loopholes?
The Federation had hidden a lot of dirt, but it was also the Federation that had sheltered humanity under the secret observation of the Spiral Star people and the onslaught of the Zerg, allowing ordinary citizens to stay safely on their various planets and browse the StarNet.
Yue Du’s mood was quite complicated.
On one hand, this compiled information could facilitate Sheng Xuejiu’s actions. On the other hand, she had also uncovered some secrets about the Federation’s current highest authority—President Yubulaji. They were not exactly glorious matters; they could even be called vile.
The Main System’s mission requirement included killing the person in power.
The “person in power” here could refer to the President alone, or it could refer to the President, the Premier, and the Speaker—three people. It was most likely the former.
The President was guilty, and his crimes were punishable by death. From this perspective, Yue Du could completely breathe a sigh of relief.
But she couldn’t help but wonder: if the President were a righteous, wise politician with no serious faults, could she still assist her host in completing this mission with a clear conscience?
Sheng Xuejiu heard her confusion and said nonchalantly, “There’s nothing to agonize over. Taking control of the Federation isn’t the final mission, right? So regardless of whether Yubulaji is at fault or not, as long as we get rid of him and make the others listen obediently, I can keep you here. It’s a good deal.”
Yue Du said, “It is a good deal. But some things can’t be defined by profit and loss.”
Sensing the unspoken meaning in the system’s words, Sheng Xuejiu’s movements suddenly paused. She turned her head, her dark eyes fixing on her.
“Would killing him make you angry?”
“Not angry…” Yue Du chose her words carefully, trying to find the most suitable description. Finally, she said, “But perhaps I would blame myself.”
Yue Du didn’t consider herself a good person. “Good person” was a broad term, but someone who had once stained her hands with blood and could watch her host take a life without a ripple of emotion clearly didn’t fall into that category.
Even so, the knowledge that she would cause an innocent person to die would bring an ineffable sense of sorrow that was impossible to avoid.
Sheng Xuejiu was silent for a moment, then said, “I understand. I won’t do anything that makes you uncomfortable.”
Then she added, “But Yubulaji isn’t innocent. So I can make a move on him, right?”
Yue Du: “Hmm—well.”
“Looks like I can,” Sheng Xuejiu answered her own question.
The Marshal was happy again. She didn’t care about impossible scenarios. In any case, Yubulaji was wicked beyond redemption, and Yue Du wouldn’t feel uncomfortable about his death. So what was there to agonize over? Killing him was the right thing to do.
Yue Du shook her head, feeling truly hypocritical.
The President’s crimes were hateful, but that didn’t mean they had the right to judge him, let alone when such a judgment was for their own private gain.
No one knew of their private gain, so wouldn’t this act just seem high-sounding and righteous?
In Sheng Xuejiu’s eyes, President Yubulaji was already a dead man.
Of course, he himself didn’t know it yet.
So, just three days later, when the President saw Sheng Xuejiu staring at him during a meeting with a faint, unreadable smile, he was rather baffled.
What was wrong with this woman? Didn’t she always wear a world-weary expression, as if she couldn’t be bothered to speak to anyone? Today, she was actually paying attention to him.
Ignoring the strange unease in his heart, Yubulaji cleared his throat and began to speak.
The main agenda for this regular meeting concerned major events within the Federation, the appointment and removal of several key officials, and the recent situation with the Zerg on the border. Attendees included the President and his confidants, the Speaker and five important council members, and the Premier with several officials from the State Council.
And of course, there was the military faction, led by the Federal Marshal.
Throughout the history of power structures, the one branch that was the most worrying, yet also the most indispensable, was undoubtedly the military.
They were worrying because they had power, and they were indispensable also because they had power.
But this generation of military personnel was excellent. They were experts at fighting the Zerg and deterring the Spiral Star people, and they were all quite Zen-like, treating central authority as if it were nothing and single-mindedly wanting only to be on the battlefield.
Even if the other factions had been constantly on guard at the beginning, after so many years, they had long since let their guard down.
As the saying goes, if the upper beam is not straight, the lower ones will go askew; the kind of general you have determines the kind of soldiers you get. The current atmosphere in the military was inextricably linked to their top commander, Marshal Sheng Xuejiu.
Sheng Xuejiu had always been too lazy to attend meetings, preferring to participate in discussions via holographic projection. She did this when she was on the border planets, and she still did it after returning to the capital star.
At this moment, the Marshal was attending the meeting from her office.
Holographic projection technology cast her beautiful figure at the head of the long conference table. Besides her, there were seven other three-dimensional projections, all military personnel following their boss’s example.
In any case, the scene of real people and projections staring at each other was rather comical… Even the council member reading the report couldn’t help but speed up, hoping to end the meeting quickly.
Sheng Xuejiu listened quietly with lowered lashes, her right knuckles tapping intermittently on the armrest of her chair.
After a heap of matters that had nothing to do with her, it was finally time for the border situation report.
The one reporting was Admiral Samo, stationed on the border star, Cadina. He was currently the highest-ranking general on the front lines.
“There have been no unexpected incidents recently. The Zerg that did not enter hibernation with the Broodmother launched a surprise attack three days ago. They lost their leading King Zerg and subsequently retreated on their own. The cost was over twelve hundred casualties on our side; the Spiral Star Empire’s losses are unknown.”
At this point, Admiral Samo’s expression grew solemn. “The period of low-frequency Zerg activity has lasted for several months. If nothing unexpected happens, the Broodmother will reappear within two months to expand the swarm’s reproduction.”
The President: “In other words, a Zerg tide is coming soon?”
Samo: “Yes, sir.”
“Is there any movement from the Spiral Star people?”
“The intelligence from our mole says no. At this stage, they are unlikely to pull any tricks.”
Someone beside the President suddenly whispered something. Yubulaji nodded in agreement and said, “I think so too. The Spiral Star people are more afraid of the Zerg than we are. If the defensive line breaks, they’ll be the first to bear the brunt.”
Sheng Xuejiu turned her face away, uninterested.
She was clearly spacing out, but no one dared to say a word. The Silver Lion’s reputation was not for nothing.
These people knew more than the average person, which was why they understood better that some people must absolutely not be provoked.
Half an hour later, the meeting ended.
Sheng Xuejiu was about to turn off the projection device when the politely smiling Speaker stopped her.
“If you have something to say, say it quickly.” Her voice betrayed a hint of impatience.
The Speaker had just celebrated his hundredth birthday last year. By the standards of the interstellar era, he was past middle age, but he still looked like a young gentleman, always wearing a polite and thoughtful smile.
“Your Excellency, Marshal,” he said slowly. “Pardon my asking, but when do you plan to return to the border star?”
Sheng Xuejiu sneered, “Return? The way you say it, it’s as if the border is my home.”
The Speaker shook his head with a wry smile. “There’s no need for that. I am merely concerned about the situation on the front lines. The Zerg Broodmother could reappear at any moment. Only with you on the battlefield can the citizens who believe in you feel at ease.”
“I think Samo is doing a fine job.”
The Speaker’s expression darkened slightly. “You are too modest. I’m sure Admiral Samo also hopes you will go and take charge of the overall situation.”
Admiral Samo hadn’t logged off the projection yet. Unaware of Sheng Xuejiu’s recent situation on the capital star, he heard this and broke into a bright, slightly dopey smile. “Yeah, I’m about to collapse from exhaustion after these past few months. I’m nowhere near as capable as the Marshal.”
The adjutant and Admiral Zhan, who also hadn’t logged off: “…”
Doggy, you’re done for.
Sheng Xuejiu’s lips curled into a cold smile. “Samo.”
Samo: “Yes, Marshal, I’m here!”
“Get on the holographic training system later. One hundred percent pain simulation. We’ll have a few rounds.”
Samo belatedly realized something was wrong. “What did I do wrong now??”
Sheng Xuejiu ignored him.
With a faint sound like a bursting bubble, her projection vanished.
“Sigh, you’re on your own.” He Yin sighed and also turned off her projection.
“Samo, you should really talk less in the future.” Admiral Zhan followed suit.
Admiral Samo: “So what did I say wrong? Hey—”
Capital Star First Military Academy, private office.
The Marshal expressionlessly turned off the light screen. Out of sight, out of mind.
Yue Du pushed the door open and came in. She was carrying two glasses of Kafta, one for herself and the other she placed in front of Sheng Xuejiu.
The beautifully colored beverage in the glass sloshed gently, and a clear, sweet fragrance permeated the air.
“What did they talk about in the meeting? Let me guess, was it about the Zerg? They want you to go over.”
Sheng Xuejiu: “Yeah, the Zerg Broodmother is probably about to wake up. Xi Zhou wants to send me over to keep things under control.”
Xi Zhou was the Speaker’s name.
Yue Du: “So, are you going?”
Sheng Xuejiu sighed. “I have to go. If the Zerg find out I’m not there, they’ll really stir up trouble.”
Sheng Xuejiu really couldn’t just wash her hands of it. After all, she had initially joined the military to kill Zerg to her heart’s content and vent her pent-up violent emotions.
Was there a difference between killing Zerg and killing people for “Wrath”? Yes, there was. Killing Zerg required no accountability and even brought benefits. Killing people, on the other hand, was too much trouble. It could easily lead to an interstellar manhunt, which wasn’t a good deal.
And now, she had an even more important reason.
Yue Du was on the capital star.
For this reason alone, the Federal Marshal would never let a single Zerg get near this place.
Sheng Xuejiu stayed at the military academy for over twenty days. Only after a long string of messages from Xi Zhou had accumulated in her unread folder did she leisurely prepare to leave.
She traveled with Admiral Zhan. When she left, only Yue Du and He Yin came to see her off.
As a military academy student, Yue Du normally couldn’t leave the campus at will. To do so required approval from a superior.
However, the Marshal approved it directly, and no one dared to object.
Sheng Xuejiu didn’t plan to take her along—Yue Du had been a little puzzled when she first learned of this decision, but she quickly figured out the reason.
Previously, Sheng Xuejiu had intended for her to intern with the legion because the Marshal was stationed on the capital star at the time and didn’t have to face danger directly. In a sense, it was even more leisurely than being a student, since intern soldiers didn’t have to attend classes.
Now that Sheng Xuejiu was heading to the front lines, she naturally wouldn’t let a Guide like Yue Du, who hadn’t even formally learned how to operate a mecha, follow her—even though she knew the power Yue Du could display was no less than her own.
This was a Sentinel’s natural desire to protect a Guide, and also her instinct to protect her system. It was irrepressible.
The starship’s departure time was approaching, but Sheng Xuejiu’s Quantum Beast was still perched on the white deer’s back, refusing to move.
Sheng Xuejiu paid it no mind. She gave Yue Du a light kiss on the lips and said, “I’m leaving now.”
Yue Du: “Okay. Remember to message me if anything happens.”
The Marshal replied, “I’ll message you even if nothing happens.”
The starship’s hatch closed. Yue Du retreated behind the safety line, watching the massive black and silver warship lift off, gradually accelerate, and finally disappear from view.
When she looked back, the cat on the deer’s back had vanished into a wisp of smoke—a Quantum Beast couldn’t be too far from its master, or it would be recalled into its master’s body.
The white deer looked at her with its large, gentle eyes.
“Ah Jiu has gone. I need to step things up on my end, don’t you think?” Yue Du patted the deer’s neck and smiled.
The deer gave a low cry in response.
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