Can Ci Pin - - - Chapter 158

Chapter 158 – The True Face of The Capital Planet

Since the old Sidereal Era, the First Galaxy ha d been the economic and political center of the world. It flourished above the history of mankind and fortunately survived countless wars with peaceful coups throughout time. The most violent storm within recent years was the explosion caused by the Glory Troops pirates of a few military fortresses and the memorials behind the Union’s Parliament building.

In contrast, the internal warfare within the Eighth Galaxy had barely settled within the last few years as the galaxy itself continuously rebuilt atop ruins of war. Even the Prime Minister’s own house was a standard-print building with a small garden that didn’t even require gardening robots to maintain;the owner of the house himself could easily do the handywork. The Galaxy’s core Military Command Headquarters in Milky Way City was built on top of the old AUS homebase; it would be too generous to call it shabby. It was virtually a large-scale refugee camp.

“Refugee Camp Leader”–the rural bumpkin Mister Lu Bixing expanded his worldview on this little public supply station on the border of the galaxy he was stuck on, along with the other travellers on the station. Because they had a ‘terminally ill’ patient among them, out of good conscience the supply station still arranged the best room and emergency medical equipment for them, despite not being able to let them go.

The ‘severely ill patient’ was listening quietly to the news about Woolf’s assassination right now while the ‘caretaker’ by his side claimed the patient’s bed and took apart the entire emergency medical equipment with the help of super AI Zhanlu.

“Back when the Union government fled to the City of Angels, Thomas and I had joined in the planning and setup of the temporary security system for Chief Woolf’s mansion on the fortress.” Poisson was currently on standby in the Heart of the Rose, speaking to Lin Jingheng through a long-distance call. “The system in the temporary mansion was already extremely high-level, almost like a miniature military fortress. The real system in the Chief’s mansion on Wolto could only be even more powerful than that. I feel like this spokesperson’s words about ‘security system got destroyed from the outside, the culprit snuck in from the blind side of the mountain ranges’ could only fool the non-professionals–I’d like to see him try actually destroying one.”

Lee asked: “Marshal, could Woolf possibly fake his death?”

Lin Jingheng tucked his hands behind his back: “What’s his reason for faking his death?”

“If you think about it, the Union has suppressed the news of Duke’s death for over ten days already. Woolf was assassinated in the middle of the night, but they called for a press conference immediately the next morning. If these two pieces of news were made public at the same time, the tension between the Union and Central Militias would only escalate. Duke’s death would suddenly become a secondary issue, and the pirates once again would be pushed to the position of a common enemy.”

Lin Jingheng returned the question with a cold expression on his face: “What’s going to happen once they ease the tension? Woolf’s too old; where would the trust for the Union government go if he pulls another fake death scenario out of his sleeves? He’s not like me; my reputation back then was undisputed but vile, nobody believed I could get any more heinous, no matter what I did. Woolf’s position in the Union is too sublime. It’s easy to climb up the throne of gods but difficult to step down; he can’t afford to do anything that would taint his reputation like pull this sort of lowly trick. But if he’s gone, the conflict between the Union and Central Militias would certainly be gone, and the power the central government has over the militias would also vanish. Now that Woolf’s dead, who else in the government could possibly hold the leash of those Central Militias that had lived most of their lives on the battlefield?”

“Perhaps it’s not simply a matter of easing the tension,” Lee’s reaction was quick and immediately followed his boss’s train of thought. “Maybe Duke’s assassination was an order by Woolf: he could lure in the Central Militias with Duke’s death then fake his own death to further complicate the situation. Then, while all the Generals across the galaxies had their guards down, he would come out from the shadows to capture his prey and control them with arms, forcefully stripping away the military autonomy from each galaxy.”

“The plan makes sense, but I still kind of disagree,” Lu Bixing chimed in while his attention was still locked on taking apart the emergency medical capsule. “Same reasoning; if Duke was killed by Woolf, why would he use the AUS’s name and not the Freedom Corps? Besides, it wouldn’t be smart to snipe the Central Militias right now; the pirates are still around, their enemies are still around. Even if Woolf had the power to kill all of the Generals of the Central Militias, it would only stir up more chaos among the station troops and wouldn’t unite them under the central government. Wouldn’t that also give the pirates an opportunity to strike? The fundamental characteristic of a good politician is the ability to pinpoint all main conflicts of interest in any situation, then know how to clean up this mess; Woolf can’t possibly be this dumb.”

“Poisson said earlier that the security system in the Chief’s mansion was as strict as a military fortress, it’s very unlikely for someone to break in from the outside. That’s actually how the Silver Fortress was back then…the security and defense system that was impossible to take down broke down internally, so now hacked security systems can’t possibly be shut down from the inside. Woolf invited the demon inside years ago, now he became the demon that was invited–don’t you all think this kind of assassination is reflecting something?” Lin Jingheng pulled out a cigarette from somewhere. “From all these years I’ve known him, Woolf doesn’t have this kind of self-deprecating sense of humor.”

Lee, Bayer, and Lu Bixing all commented simultaneously: “Don’t light it.”

Bayer pointed gingerly at the red cross mark by the door: “This is a hospital-grade room, boss; they’re very strict with air quality control.”

“You picked to be a ‘patient that feels pain even when breathing,’ Marshal. You can’t deny it even if you hate it, you were the one that pulled the card. Be a little more sincere with your illness here, don’t wing it like that.” Life in the refugee camp was harsh and boring; Lu Bixing spoke righteously as if he was planning on joking about this for the rest of his life to entertain himself, “Besides, that’s from my pocket, give it back to me. How could you be touching me like this so openly out in daylight?”

Lin Jingheng: “…..”

Fuck.

Lee could feel the heavy air filling with killing intent and quickly soothed the upset king with some good words: “The Marshal is right—then the spy inside the Chief’s mansion, the rumors of Woolf being controlled, the AUS that was dragged in, and the two assassinations that gathered up the Central Militias…do we have a full picture of the situation now?”

Bayer caught on and followed up: “The Freedom Corps hooked up with someone close to Chief Woolf!”

Lin Jingheng suddenly turned around: “Engineer 001, can we still depend on your shabby temporary technological support?”

Lu Bixing’s personal device popped up multiple personnel IDs the moment Lin Jingheng’s line finished. There were Union troops soldiers inside the supply station; everything from the communication lines and internet, to transportation vehicles were all divided between public and military-use, with only this expensive emergency capsule being shared.

In order to protect personal privacy, the capsule would automatically clean up all its previous patient information. However, anything that was once saved would always leave a trace; Lu Bixing followed these traces and uncovered all this lost data. Fingerprints, iris identification, genes, ID numbers, and all the other important information were available at his fingertips; a small tweak could be easily made into a believable fake ID.

“I haven’t done these kinds of shady things undercover in a while, I’m getting a little rusty,” Lu Bixing said. “Here, everyone take your new IDs and records, let’s all rest up in our own rooms. The supply station will enter nighttime in three hours, we’ll take our leave at midnight.”

With the Prime Minister’s permission, Lee and Bayer who couldn’t stand in the same space any longer ran out as if teleported through a mini energy field under their feet. Poisson also hung up the line without another word. Lu Bixing pulled up all that junk he’d taken apart earlier and shoved it all under the bed, then gave a pat on the pillow: “The patient needs some rest, let me take care of you.”

Lin Jingheng sneered and tossed Lu Bixing onto the bed, then pinned down the young man’s arm behind his back onto the soft pillow: “How do you plan on taking care of me, hm?”

Lu Bixing sighed: “You know, you never catch anything when other people are properly confessing to you, but a random line out of my mouth could be twisted into adult content in your mind. When I get time one day I’m going to anonymously write a book called ‘how it feels to date a stoic loser.’”

Lin Jingheng asked in confusion: “What word out of your mouth is considered a proper confession?”

“I said I’ll take care of you.” Lu Bixing turned his body over and pressed a finger on Lin Jingheng’s lips as if he wanted to squeeze out some redness onto it. He stared with those artificial green pupils as sweet words rolled smoothly off of his tongue, “That means I want to wake you up everyday with kisses, put your clothes on for you, carry you around for walks, feed you all the good food, surround you day and night, and do all these mundane things for you.”

Lin Jingheng: “……You can’t even make your own bed, don’t you feel shameless saying all these things?”

Lu Bixing: “……”

Lin Jingheng laughed and reached his hand over to ruffle out the young man’s styled hair.

Yet Lu Bixing felt as if he saw a hint of melancholy in that smile: “Are you worried about your sister?”

Lin Jingheng fell silent for about two seconds, then finally got Lu Bixing out of his grip as he laid down beside the young man: “No, I’ll face anyone that gets in my way.”

Lu Bixing turned his head towards him: “Hey, didn’t we agree that we’d ‘slip over the listening device and Doctor Hardin’ between the two of us?”

Lin Jingheng’s silence extended as he felt his body being consumed by the soft bed, clinging to his limbs and stopping him from getting back up; he could feel that even his energy was being dragged down. It was still daytime on the space station; Lin Jingheng lifted his arm up in a pensive manner over his eyes to block out the light.

“The first message that the Eighth Galaxy received that day…the one that was later denied by the border patrols,” Lin Jingheng said lightly in a soft tone, “He said ‘Chief Woolf fell under their control.’”

Lu Bixing gave a patient and small verbal response.

“I’m not sure,” Lin Jingheng continued in a small voice, “but this line made me think of Lorde.”

“Your former Vice Admiral?”

“When I was still in school, Lorde’s mother was the director of the strategic command department and one of my teachers; she later was promoted to be the principal of the Black Orchid Academy. His father was the director of the pharmaceutical department of the White Tower, so he lived between the Committee and Military Council,” Lin Jingheng continued lightly. “His background was prestigious but he was quite disciplined as a person; he was never showy in the Silver Fortress, and would only mention his father was a doctor and mother was a teacher when asked. He maintained a good relationship with all his colleagues regardless of rank…he thought I didn’t know, but before he reported to me, his mother had already contacted me in private. She told me in a sort of roundabout way that this son of hers was gentle and mellow, maybe a little too soft-hearted sometimes and hoped that enlisted life in the Silver Fortress could train him well to become a Civil Service Officer in the future when he returned to the Military Council’s Secretary Office.”

Even if he never stepped on a battlefield and spent his years in the Silver Fortress sending and receiving mail, he could still earn some merits and recognition as Lin Jingheng’s Vice Admiral for his future career.

“I’m sure any parent like that would wish for their children to live the most stable and best life, which can be said for commoners as well. Why are there always people who want to force their ideals onto the world?” Lin Jingheng’s voice was low, like a whisper that could disappear at any moment, “……I was too focused on the battle with those people back then that I arrogantly thought putting her in the hands of the Committee was for her own good. I’m the one that pushed her to this point.”

Lu Bixing placed a hand on his waist and listened quietly on the side; he didn’t interrupt nor did he offer any consoling words like ‘this isn’t your fault.’

Because a silly question like ‘who’s fault is it’ was not important. Whether it was family or lovers, the conflicts between individuals were always equally shared by the closest people around them regardless of who was in the wrong, like a burden of pain and anguish.

If possible, Lin Jingheng wouldn’t even hesitate to redo everything again. He would return to their childhood and jump down from the railways in midair to hold that little girl’s hand, even if it meant breaking his legs. They wouldn’t need anyone else and could live together by each other’s side; when she grew up, he could even call up all the little bastards that would try to take his precious sister’s hand for a beating.

Then perhaps he would lose Lu Xin, lose the most carefree time of his life in his teens; but perhaps Lu Xin wouldn’t have died and the person beside him wouldn’t have been exiled to the Eighth Galaxy. The young man wouldn’t have suffered so much pain and carried such heavy burdens. Perhaps that Lu Bixing would grow up to be like a Lorde, a gentle and kind little boy that got set up to be his underling by Lu Xin pulling strings in the Council on the day of his graduation. Maybe Lin Jingheng would get upset but still arrange for the young man’s future career as he complained outwardly…

Lu Bixing’s hand rested on Lin Jingheng’s body, the warmth in his palm seeping through the thin layers of clothing into the other man’s cold flesh. As if that palm had opened up a small, worry-free corner inside his heart, the commander allowed himself a moment to let his mind run freely with the rare taste of weakness and regret.

A few hours later, he put his armor back on and walked toward another inevitable fate of harsh winds and storms.

The First and Tenth Squadron’s cooperation was flawless; the group utilized their fake identities as guards inside the supply station and easily obtained a complete map of the station.

Lu Bixing passed through the identity check and snuck into the database containing the schedule of patrols, quickly scanned the names on there, and smiled: “Jingheng, switch up your identity a bit, the person you chose is on shift tonight.”

Lin Jingheng was used to these kinds of jobs and had already prepared seven to eight different false IDs; without any complaint, he immediately changed his identity through his personal device.

“Sneak into the patrol team first,” Lu Bixing said. “I haven’t dissected a First Galaxy military-grade mech yet.”

Wang Ailun had been putting on a whole one-man show the entire day while the group was still sneaking around a border supply station; his hand trembled and eyelids drooped as he cried. He sent off his subordinates, walked quickly into the restroom, and splashed a handful of cold water on his face. He stared into the mirror for about two seconds before he finally laughed like a maniac.

A woman’s voice rang out from his personal device: “A heavy burden is off your shoulders now, Secretary General, shall we move on to the next step?”

Wang Ailun ground his teeth: “Let’s go.”

“Then it’s time for you to play the pitiful character,” Lin Jingshu said. “The more pitiful the better. You need to let those Generals in the Central Militias believe that you’ve completely lost your position in the central government now that Woolf is dead, that you’ve become a punching bag for everyone else. Didn’t you say they all looked down on you anyway? They’ll believe it.”

Three days later, under heavy grief, the central government of the Union announced that they would risk everything to investigate the truth and let the culprit pay for their crimes. Immediately after, all the generals of the Central Militias waiting by the border of the First Galaxy received a notification that the Union would be hosting a public funeral for Chief Woolf.

The funeral was scheduled to be held in two weeks; the hesitant generals didn’t give a clear response at first.

Yet soon after, the central government began to shake up from the inside. It started off with the government using the excuse of ‘investigating Chief Woolf’s cause of death’ to temporarily suspend Wang Ailun and everyone the late Chief had close connections to from their positions. In addition, all incomplete orders the Military Council had on their backlogs were also temporarily on hold.

Sniffing out some conspiracies behind everything, the Wolto Daily sneakily posted an article discussing militarism throughout history with a vague conclusion that said: “The war is over and everything is ready to be rebuilt, but in contrast to this, isn’t the government’s budget for the military by the Union at this time a little too high to justify? Will the military continue to control the Parliament for a long time into the future?”

It was as if all the demons in the shadows were released at once immediately following Woolf’s death. With Wang Ailun in the lead, the representatives of the military were suddenly stripped of their rights to speak in the Parliament, obscuring the power imbalance and struggle of the central government in the eyes of these Central Militias from outside the First Galaxy.

Day six after Chief Woolf’s death, the ‘anxious’ Wang Ailun finally snuck onto an illegal private mech to meet up with the generals of the Central Militias waiting in the border of the First Galaxy, as if he were desperate to look for a new ally.

At the same time, a small mech tossed away its navigation map and swiftly made its way out of the planet’s gravitational zone, avoiding the customs in the First Galaxy and sailing towards Wolto.

“The capital planet.” Lu Bixing peeked from the mental network and let out a sigh of relief, “I’m finally able to see your true face.”

Meanwhile, the target of all hatred from the Union, Prophet Harris of the AUS—also known as Hope, sailed quietly on an unarmed starship towards the City of Angels.

On Neverland, Lin Jingshu leaned on a swing and flipped through the ancient tale of Peter Pan on her personal device; she was at the part where the pirate was threatening little Wendy to become his mother and scared away a little fairy with her cold laughter.