Chapter 20: Delivered to the Doorstep

In the vast expanse of the cosmos, humanity’s footprint had expanded far beyond its earthly confines.

Yet this same boundless universe also constrained the dissemination of information. Different star systems stood like isolated islands in a sea of space. Nations situated along major interstellar trade routes thrived with wealth and prosperity, while those more remote languished in poverty.

The White Whale Galaxy witnessed countless conflicts each day—wars fought over resources, control of navigation routes, and technological supremacy. Major powers engaged in near-constant border disputes, while smaller nations scrambled to unify their planets. Above all else, they sorely lacked timely intelligence.

With current technology, only simple textual data could be transmitted between star systems; real-time voice communication was still impossible. As a result, letter-writing once again became popular, and courier companies finally began offering both package and message delivery services.

Letters in this era were nothing more than small reusable storage chips, relatively inexpensive to produce. The true challenge lay elsewhere: the advent of the interstellar age had rendered traditional espionage methods obsolete. Each nation established postal agencies where received letters would undergo content scrutiny by intelligent machines before being cleared for dispatch. With hundreds of languages existing within the White Whale Galaxy alone—and many sentient species possessing entirely different modes of communication—the field of cryptography had splintered into numerous specialized disciplines overnight.

Moreover, since no nation could effectively inspect every traveler’s photobrain for espionage software at border crossings, many countries banned such devices from entering their territory. The Deep Blue Kingdom was not among them.

In truth, ever since Cyrus assumed power, not a single spy had managed to successfully bring any classified intelligence back from Deep Blue.

This “haven untouched by war” was ironically known as “hell on earth for intelligence agents.” Diplomats from any country assigned to serve long-term in Deep Blue often wrote their wills before departure—a grim ritual.

Every month, embassies across Deep Blue held funerals with chilling regularity. From humble doormen to high-ranking ambassadors, each seemed marked by the very stamp of death itself. Records showed that over 187 diplomats had met mysterious fates—either through sudden death or inexplicable disappearance—in the capital city alone. This figure only scratched the surface; it excluded those spies who infiltrated under tourist visas, whose numbers were estimated to be ten times greater still.

It was an absolutely terrifying statistic.

Yet despite these risks, the allure of the Deep Blue Kingdom’s advanced technology and vast wealth proved irresistible. Nations worldwide felt compelled to endure this deadly game, steeling themselves against the inevitable losses. They would issue verbal diplomatic protests, but none possessed the military might to actually declare open warfare—an option beyond their capabilities.

It could be said that during Cyrus’s reign over the Deep Blue Kingdom, espionage technology across the entire White Whale Galaxy had advanced by leaps and bounds within just a few decades. The quality of intelligence agents graduating from these systems also steadily improved. These poor souls, some dispatched to Deep Blue, were often unaware of the kingdom’s terrifying mortality rate—otherwise, who would willingly go there?

Zhang Sen was slightly more fortunate than those unfortunate souls. Once a major in the military system of the First Republic—the leading power in the White Whale Galaxy—he found himself sidelined when his faction lost favor in domestic politics. For over ten years, he quietly sat on the bench until recently receiving a secret directive—a death notice, as it were.

He had been appointed as the martial attaché at the embassy of the Deep Blue Kingdom—an honorary colonel rank. However, Zhang Sen felt no joy in this appointment; every high-ranking officer knew well that such a title was merely bestowed posthumously for funeral rites. No other nation’s embassy offered such a lofty position.

“Listen carefully, Major Zhang Sen,” the leader of his faction said earnestly, “we’ve heard rumors that Cyrus of the Deep Blue Kingdom is nearing his end! Do you understand what this means? This is both the most perilous and crucial moment before dawn. We need someone to go to Deep Blue—to play a decisive role should their political situation become unstable!”

Even a fragment of technology from the Deep Blue Kingdom could make any nation dance with delight in their dreams.

“This is no suicide mission,” his superiors assured him. “You’re not an intelligence agent; you won’t be required to engage in any dangerous activities. Your only task is to bide your time each day—ideally by attending more high-society galas and networking. That’s it! Before Cyrus dies, do nothing else! Major Zhang Sen, the fate of our faction regaining power—and indeed, the future of the Republic unifying the White Whale Galaxy—rests squarely on your shoulders!”

Zhang Sen remained silent, trapped in this predicament. With such classified knowledge now etched into his mind, refusal was impossible; he couldn’t even walk out that door without facing dire consequences. Reluctantly, he began preparing for his assignment, torn between duty and despair.

Little did Zhang Sen know that among diplomats’ death records across various nations, those of Asian descent—with their black hair and dark eyes—had the highest survival rate. In similar circumstances, they tended to last longer than others, though no one understood why. This statistical anomaly was precisely what had led to his unfortunate selection. Within his faction’s leadership, he stood alone as the sole member of Eastern origin.

Though embarking on what seemed like a journey courting certain doom, Zhang Sen still tried to find ways to ease his burden amidst the chaos.

Rumor had it that Deep Blue was a paradise for unrestrained desires—the epitome of worldly pleasures. A diplomat’s posting lasted ten years, and to the uninformed public, this free decade-long residency on Deep Blue would surely make their eyes gleam with envy.

Little did Zhang Sen know that from the moment he left his home planet, his life—a tapestry of extraordinary experiences interwoven with misfortune and thrill—was only just beginning.

The military emblem of the First Republic of the White Whale Galaxy was emblazoned on the spacecraft.

Few spatial jump points dared charge them usage fees.

Zhang Sen was under close surveillance; those accompanying him aboard were less like attendants and more akin to secret police escorting him to his execution. Upon reaching Deep Blue, they delivered the diplomatic correspondence along with him before heading back immediately.

Just as they reached the midpoint of their journey, a violent tremor shook the entire spacecraft.

Before anyone could even stand up, the secret police within the cabin drew their guns in unison, all barrels pointed squarely at Zhang Sen’s head.

“…”

The hapless major felt like crying out in frustration—what madness was this?!

Fortunately, the ship’s performance proved robust, swiftly pinpointing the culprit behind the disturbance.

In the distant darkness of space, a small silhouette emitting white light appeared. It could be an energy weapon capable of disrupting local spacetime—a threat that had already rendered dozens of the ship’s instruments inoperable.

“Enemy attack! All hands on alert!” In this critical moment, it was Colonel Zhang Sen who stood up to take command.

The secret police officer responsible for escorting the prisoners hesitated briefly, but then the results from the spaceship’s defense system scans came through:

“Distance to enemy target: 900,000 kilometers.”

This distance far exceeded the range of conventional weapons, yet—given how clearly visible the shadow was at such a vast expanse—it wasn’t merely a warship. This was undoubtedly a mobile space fortress!

“…890,000 km, 880,000, 870,000, now 840,000… 720,000! They’ve spotted us; the gap is closing rapidly every second.”

Heavens above, which nation fielded this monstrous space warfare fortress? Can something with such speed even be called a ‘fortress’?

In the era of interstellar warfare, the purpose of these colossal vessels mirrored that of aircraft carriers in earlier conflicts. Boasting the most advanced defensive systems and typically escorted by numerous fighter ships, they were indeed formidable. However, their sheer size severely hampered their mobility. What need was there for such speed anyway? Which country would be foolish enough to charge headfirst into battle with an aircraft carrier-like vessel? The concept seemed as preposterous as using a lumbering battleship for a high-speed assault—an exercise in futility if ever there were one.

As they beheld the appearance of this space fortress, their eyes nearly bulged out with shock—had there been any writing on them, it would have read: Holy shit! There really is a nation even more deranged than the Deep Blue Kingdom. What kind of design is that?

In the pitch-black expanse of space, the pristine white wings of Pegasus spread gracefully open.

The silver-armored knight, holding its long lance, sat atop its mount not as an inanimate figure but with surprising humanity—a proud bearing despite its enormous, pitch-black eyes fixed unwaveringly on their ship.

From the subtle movements observable, it seemed almost disconnected from its winged steed—a strange unity indeed for such a combined space fortress.

At relativistic speeds during cosmic travel, Zhang Sen mused, when two objects move at identical velocities relative to each other, they appear stationary to one another. Theoretically then, this armored knight could never fall off its flying horse.

What struck him further was how the silver-armored knight gently caressed what appeared to be the phantom mane of the Pegasus, while the creature itself swayed its head appropriately. When both turned in unison to gaze upon their direction, they ceased to seem like components of some warship; instead, they felt utterly alive!

Zhang Sen and his escort wore identical expressions of bewilderment: =口=

Suddenly snapping back to reality, Zhang Sen leaped up and shouted desperately, “Quick! Request communication contact—have them identify themselves!”

The ship fell into immediate chaos. Once the wireless communication was established, everyone tensely stared at the screens, eager to discover which nation this “apparently brainless yet statistically terrifying” space fortress belonged to—and who its commander might be.

Moments later, the screen flickered with change as a three-dimensional image materialized: it was still that knight astride his flying horse, now shrunk by some factor n but no less imposing. His eyes, rendered in virtual form as lifelike pupils, seemed piercingly real, while the flying steed appeared equally vivid and alive.

“Moravia—the First Republic of the White Whale Galaxy, a human nation,” the silver-armored knight intoned mechanically in the universal language. “The emblem is unique to its military system. You have fifteen vessels here, including details on their models, speeds, and defensive capabilities—” He proceeded to recite these specifics accurately for each of Zhang Sen’s fleet before adding one final note: “As for information regarding your propulsion systems’ other data, such knowledge constitutes your national secret. With insufficient access, I am unable to provide further insights.”

“Who—who exactly are you?” asked Zhang Sen, momentarily unsure whether he should inquire about nationality or species first—or perhaps something else entirely.

In times of great peril, Zhang Sen once again found himself thrust into the role of de facto leader. He began cautiously, “We are envoys from the Deep Blue Kingdom. May we ask what brings you here?”

Within the White Whale Galaxy, there were indeed forces bold enough to defy the First Republic—a fact not lost on those familiar with local politics.

But surely no one would offend both the Deep Blue Kingdom and us at the same time!

“A diplomatic mission to Deep Blue?”

“Yes, we were—”

“I am quite satisfied with you,” interjected the virtual image of the silver-armored knight on the light screen. He lifted his visor, revealing a strikingly handsome face. Zhang Sen and his crew members exchanged glances—they had assumed this was the true appearance of their opponent’s commander—a rare gem among commanders, seen once in a millennium! The knight had projected his own likeness onto the space fortress’ avatar. With its audacious and flamboyant exterior, the fortress seemed designed like a genuine knight from legend, complete with transformation sequences that synchronized seamlessly with flight maneuvers.

Were they dreaming today or not?

Boom!

Simultaneously, small-scale explosions erupted across the energy shields of over a dozen ships.

In terror, they instinctively pressed the fire buttons for their weapons. The dazzling barrage tore away various embellishments from the silver-armored knight: decorative armor pieces, protruding shoulder guards, even feathers from the winged horse.

“The quality of your metal alloys is truly abysmal,” muttered the Silver-armored Knight as his virtual projection flickered out entirely.

His final parting shot hung in the air:

“Come forth, my prey! Your nation’s new model spacecraft shall be my snacks, while as for you…you’ll serve as sustenance for my master. I appreciate such an efficient method; nothing goes to waste!”

In space, the colossal figure of a knight suddenly extended its long lance and lunged towards them.

The tip of the knight’s spear flickered with the blue light of high-energy fusion, coiling around their spaceship like a serpent.

To the silver-armored knight, the pirate attacks were utterly inconsequential. Its body was too vast; even after absorbing over a dozen ships—far below what it deemed satisfactory—it swiftly began repairing the damaged sections.

“Humans,” Xi’er mused, “all humans—all very good!”

Having captured all the pirates and devoured four merchant vessels consecutively, Xi’er found itself surprisingly short on human captives confined within its black chambers—the only ones left being those who had been conclusively identified as human by instrument scans. Surely they must sleep eventually! it thought incredulously.

When Lieutenant Zhang Sen emerged from darkness, he beheld an alarmingly immense chamber. Along the surrounding walls, individuals were securely fastened every three meters amidst metal machinery. Their heads were encased in half-helmets, rendering speech or movement impossible.

Immobility reigned supreme in this dimly lit room. From his limited vantage point, Zhang Sen could see not only fellow-unlucky servicemen but also unmistakable pirates alongside ordinary civilians—a motley crew bound together by fate within Xi’er’s metallic embrace.

At the center of the room stood a metallic platform, upon which lay a figure with black hair—his fate unknown, whether alive or dead.

“Oh—” Xi’er, having just assimilated data from over a dozen captured spacecraft systems, now scrutinized Zhang Sen with keen interest. The bound man, immobilized by metal restraints, was instantly projected as a 3D holographic image before him.

Not a soul in the room appeared drowsy; all eyes contracted into pinpoints of fear.

Devil! The terror was plain in their gazes!

According to the White Whale Galaxy’s war regulations, what transpired here was undeniably a case of prisoner abuse—a hundred percent violation of protocol!

A force field suddenly descended around Zhang Sen, cutting off sound transmission.

“You’re Moravia Republic’s newly appointed diplomatic envoy,” the Silver-armored Knight said, his eyes gleaming. “Bound for Deep Blue, am I correct? Excellent—simply excellent!”

Who are you? What do you intend to do? Major Zhang Sen stared at Xi’er with an expression that radiated righteousness and defiance.

“I’ll release you—but only you alone,” continued the knight. “I’ll return your identification documents, files, and essentials. Hmm, how about this: Would you like to bring along one personal attendant—and instead of a photobrain, let’s add a cleaning robot for your journey to Deep Blue? We can claim you encountered pirates en route. Fear not; given my intellect, I assure you we’ll craft an utterly convincing narrative!”

Zhang Sen remained silent, his mind racing through possible scenarios and escape plans. This mysterious benefactor—or perhaps malevolent force—had thrown him a lifeline, but at what cost? He must tread carefully, ensuring that this unexpected turn did not lead him into a trap more perilous than the one he’d escaped.