Chapter 613 "The Deal"

Old Joe scratched his shoulder in frustration—a rather human gesture, as if it were a habit he had retained from when he still possessed flesh and blood—before his gaze fell on the blond elf before him. The optical sensors deeply embedded in the protective crystal gleamed with a dangerous light, and an anger and an uncontrollable urge to destroy surged within his logic chip.

This fleshy creature, this loner rat, this consumable that escaped from the lab, this guy who even once rode on his head—she always had such incredible luck, even returning here unscathed after such a terrible accident. Every move this blonde elf made seemed like a silent mockery and provocation, and now the fearless calm in her eyes was even more repulsive.

“I thought that after so many years of adaptation, you would have learned the rules, at least learned to respect your ‘seniors’,” Old Joe said casually, seemingly unconcerned about the weapons gripped tightly by the two guards on the scene. “Now you have nothing left—I know you must still be hiding some 'little secrets', but that’s nothing compared to the corporation. Compared to that, your failure has spread throughout the corporation’s intranet, and the losses at Pioneer Labs and the increased costs due to the impact on trade lines will all be attributed to you.”

He paused here, his expression seemingly calming down a bit: "Do I need to remind you? You're already a dead man on the group's list. The debts of a dead man can usually be wiped clean, but it seems you clearly don't want to 'die' yet—if you're asking me for help, you need to show some sincerity in asking for help."

“That’s right, let’s talk business, talking about feelings is too expensive,” Luo laughed, looking into Old Joe’s eyes. “So, name your price. What do you mean by ‘sincerity’?”

“All your experimental data over the years,” Old Joe began, the cold steel giant no longer bothering with formalities, “Don’t say you’ve lost your lab. I know your habits; you must still have backups. Even if all backups are lost, at least one copy is still in your electronic brain. In addition, there’s your trade key in the Great Triangle Nebula—that should have originally been mine.”

Luo's expression turned cold: "...Old Joe, isn't your appetite a bit too big?"

“I’ve given you the most important investment,” Old Joe said, pointing to a mechanical limb swinging beside Luo. “These living metals are a debt you can’t shake off. Their interest has increased for nearly two centuries and is now permeating every part of your business—it’s time to pay it back, little girl.”

"And what do I get in this deal?" Luo seemed unconcerned about the greed and rudeness in the other party's words, and simply asked calmly, "To be slaughtered and lose everything—I'd rather stay in the Secret Service's cell."

A thin mist with a rusty smell drifted through the room. This "incense," filled with black magic, seemed to have become even stronger than before. Old Joe, however, felt that he was gradually getting used to this somewhat strange atmosphere. He carefully examined the golden-haired elf in front of him again. The deepest thoughts in the logic chip were much calmer than he appeared.

The cowardly and foolish little girl from back then has long since grown up. Although she was the weakest and most marginalized among project managers of the same level until this accident, even the weakest black spot warlord is still a warlord. She certainly wouldn't have come here without any ability to resist. The accident at the Vanguard Laboratory may have dealt her a heavy blow, but no one can be sure how much else she has hidden outside that space station.

Over in the no-man's-land, the three fighter jets missed their target, but at least they didn't fire. Since they hadn't completely broken off relations, it was necessary to maintain the last bit of dignity.

Having experienced the failure at Blackrock Space Station and escaped from Secret Service territory, Luo has now returned to Dark Currents and taken the initiative to contact them—what does she want?

“I can help you get back into Black Spot Group and minimize the impact of that accident. At least I will keep your supervisory position. No one will investigate the details of your disappearance at the border, and the internal investigation of the group will stop at my level,” he said unhurriedly. “I have a small laboratory in the KS-4 asteroid belt, with supporting logistics facilities. You can continue your research there.”

He paused for a moment, then forced a somewhat stiff smile: "Don't mention it. You can consider this my second investment in you."

“Well, that does sound good,” Luo tilted her head. Although she could easily detect the traps and hypocrisy in the other person’s words, she didn’t raise any questions, as if she really had no other choice. After a brief moment of thought, she sighed softly, “It’s better than the current situation.”

"so?"

“Then I need to think about it too,” Luo said seriously. “Any transaction requires careful consideration.”

“Of course, it’s a wise move,” Old Joe said, spreading his arms. “I’m ready to hear from you anytime—but hopefully it won’t take too long. The group will find out you’re back sooner or later, and the next person to handle things with you will probably not be as easy to talk to as I am.”

Luo remained noncommittal, then coughed twice, her expression turning serious: "Since we've come this far, I have something else to ask you."

What do you want to ask?

“Regarding the Secret Order of Saints,” Luo looked intently at the steel freak in front of him, “I want to know which of us is doing business with them.”

"Those self-proclaimed 'hermits' charlatans?" Old Joe shook his head, a slight grinding sound coming from the mechanical workings of his body. "They are a little smarter than the Angel Cultists, but only to a limited extent. Those charlatans have their own territory and rules, and at most they have some connections with certain peripheral trade lines of the group company, but they are not quite 'business partners'... Why did you suddenly ask about this?"

Luo looked into Old Joe's eyes, as if trying to discern some subtle expression from his tough exterior, before speaking in a deep voice: "Those rats stole my things—and I suspect that someone in the group company was also involved."

Old Joe leaned forward slightly: "Is it related to your 'accident' this time?"

“That’s why I suspect it,” Luo said gravely, “that although there’s no evidence, they’ve left traces of infiltration in my space station…”

She paused mid-sentence, stared at Old Joe's face, and said half-jokingly, "Should I also start to doubt you?"

"Do you think I would risk being discovered by the corporation to collude with a bunch of anti-intellectual charlatans just to help them blow up a pioneering laboratory?" Old Joe laughed hoarsely, his chest emitting its signature noise. "Lo, I have no grudge against you... okay, you might have some issues with me on your own, but I'm not stupid enough to do something like this."

Luo gave Old Joe a deep look: "...It's for the best."

She got up from the sofa and yawned lazily.

“I should rest—the dark wizard advised me to get as much sleep as possible, as it would help restore my sanity.”

"...Is this also related to the aftereffects of encountering the Dark Angel?"

"Yes, that thing is really annoying, and it can cause serious sleep problems after you come into contact with it."

“…That’s incredible,” Old Joe also got up from the sofa and replied casually, half-jokingly. “Then I won’t disturb your rest any longer—but don’t forget my advice, and if the opportunity arises, I’m still very interested in what you’ve been through lately. You should have a lot to say about the Dark Angels and the Borderlands…This information is very valuable.”

He turned and walked toward the door, but just as he was about to push it open and leave, he suddenly stopped and looked back at the incense burner on the coffee table.

"Furthermore, I don't like your incense—the smell reminds me of frail flesh and blood."

The heavy footsteps, accompanied by the slight creaking of mechanical joints, marked the departure of the tall figure from the reception room.

Only after watching the silver-white luxury shuttle leave the tower platform through the monitor did Luo finally breathe a sigh of relief.

She sat on the sofa, no longer in her previous languid and comfortable posture, but like an utterly exhausted empty shell, with her elbows on her knees and her hands supporting her chin.

"Damn...disgusting..."

She muttered softly.

A faint rustling sound broke the deathly silence in the room, and part of the reception room began to come alive.

Sensing life, Luo immediately raised his head and saw a face slowly emerging on the coffee table in front of him.

"Who is that guy? He looks pretty arrogant." Yu Sheng asked curiously.

The face was quite large; although it didn't take up an entire wall, it still occupied the whole desktop.

Luo gasped for breath, feeling as if she had been grabbed by an absurd and strange force and roughly "pulled" out of the swamp of her happy old home. Amidst the rotten, piled-up scars of the Gray Dwarf Star and in the cold, icy clouds of the Dark Current Starfield, she seemed to breathe the fresh air of that valley again.

The faces on the coffee table were eerie and sinister, terrifying yet even somewhat comical.

"...Boss, you scared me to death!" Luo patted his chest, but a smile appeared on his face.

“Your adaptability needs to be trained,” Yu Sheng said casually. “Mo Ran was able to accept that emojis would appear in the atmosphere of their home planet that very afternoon.”

"I don't compare myself to those 'cultivators.' Their mental strength is simply heaven-defying; they can even extract their own souls to kill people. They are freaks in this universe."

“If Yun Qingzi hears you say that, she’ll get at least a few tickles,” Yu Sheng said. “By the way, you still haven’t answered. What’s that ‘Old Qiao’ doing? Is he your competitor? A colleague at the company?”

Luo remained silent for a few seconds.

“That was my first boss, my mentor, my investor—my competitor,” she said calmly. “He took my spine and made me a part of this place—in Black Dot Group, it’s called ‘onboarding’.”

(End of this chapter)