The vast universe was a realm of silent stillness. In a vacuum as quiet as the grave, a brilliant nebula detonated without a sound, tearing a corner of the cosmic void asunder.
The fissioning nebula shattered the peace of the asteroid belt. Within the vacuum, countless celestial bodies and meteorites were drawn toward the collapsing nebula. All light was swallowed, leaving behind only a black hole from which nothing could escape.
A nebula-class anti-curvature super-nuclear bomb had been detonated. A starship, previously hidden silently within the asteroid belt, was revealed amidst the swarming collapse of meteorites. The ship’s pitch-black hull was suddenly shrouded in a sapphire-blue glow—the sign that it was about to enter high-speed curvature space.
However, it was too late. The expanding black hole disrupted the curvature of the surrounding space. The fission reaction caused by the anti-curvature weapon interfered with all nearby jump points. Ultimately, the massive starship, unable to enter curvature space, was passively dragged into the core of the black hole. Along with the celestial debris, it was reduced to cosmic dust.
Brilliant light blocked his vision, stripping away his sight, his hearing, and every sensation of his body. Then, even his consciousness vanished. All returned to dust...
Feng Zhixi snapped his eyes open. Before him was a world of stark white. The cold color pierced his pupils, and he blinked, his consciousness breaking free from that dazzling, blurred dream.
At that moment, a rhythmic *beep-beep-beep* echoed from the mainframe of his intelligent optical computer. The high-frequency vibration was sharp and ear-piercing—someone was forcibly hacking into the computer’s security system.
His head throbbed from the shrill noise. Feng Zhixi pressed a hand to his temple, intending to shut off the annoying alarm, but the sound stopped abruptly. The sealed white hatch slid open, revealing the person who had violently breached the security system.
It was a middle-aged man with neatly slicked-back hair, a small standing collar, and a blue uniform. His brow was furrowed so deeply it formed a permanent scowl.
This was the assistant to the Administrative Dean of the Lanli Institute—the Federal Supreme Research Institute. He looked at Feng Zhixi, the Senior Researcher standing inside the independent ecological experimental pod. Feng was young, tall, and possessed a striking handsomeness rare even among Omegas.
Of course, facing a man who had secured the position of Chief Researcher at such a young age and possessed his own independently developed experimental pod, no one in the Institute viewed him as a delicate greenhouse flower.
Their new Chief had a temper that wasn't just bad—it was atrocious.
With this in mind, the assistant suppressed his inner trepidation and braced himself to carry out his superior’s orders.
The middle-aged man’s scowl deepened as he stated his purpose matter-of-factly: "Chief Researcher, the Dean requests your presence in his office." The implication was clear: the violent breach of the security system wasn't his idea; he was merely following orders.
As soon as he finished speaking, as if afraid Feng Zhixi would explode or refuse, the assistant turned and left. The Dean had already made arrangements; two intelligent robots waiting by the hatch would "safely escort" Feng Zhixi to the office.
Before he could take two steps, a soft voice drifted from behind him. The tone was clean, devoid of any emotional fluctuation.
"Lead the way." Feng Zhixi spoke to the two robots beside him.
"?!" The assistant paused, startled. He watched Feng Zhixi and the two round robots brush past him, unable to fathom why the man was being so cooperative this time.
Young, gifted, and arrogant—that was the Chief's usual mode of operation. This obedient behavior didn't fit his style at all. Had the sun risen in the west?
Regardless of the assistant's shock, the young Omega researcher, under the "escort" of the robots, bypassed him and headed toward the Dean’s office.
The robots successfully delivered Feng Zhixi to the door. As the heavy, ancient double doors opened and closed, only two people remained in the office of the Administrative Dean: Feng Zhixi, standing, and an elderly man sitting behind a desk.
For a moment, the room was silent.
After a long pause, a stack of paper documents—a rarity in this day and age—was slammed onto the desk. The force was so great that the pages scattered across half the surface.
The old man who had thrown the documents snorted coldly, glaring at the young researcher. His voice was stern. "Look at this. What is it?"
Feng Zhixi didn't even need to pick up the files. He merely glanced at them and knew exactly what they were.
"My physical metrics report," Feng Zhixi replied.
The old man was so incensed by the nonchalant answer that he let out a sharp, angry laugh. "So you *know* it's your physical metrics report?"
The Dean started to speak, but seeing the look of genuine confusion on the young man’s face—as if he were wondering *'Is there anyone who wouldn't recognize their own report?'*—the fire the old man had been suppressing finally erupted.
Faced with Feng Zhixi’s matter-of-fact attitude, the Dean exploded. "I’ll tell you what this is! This isn't a metrics report; it’s a critical condition notice!"
Hearing this, Feng Zhixi looked at the documents again, noting a specific number on one of the pages. He thought to himself: *Only Level 3 damage. Not bad.*
Seemingly provoked by Feng Zhixi’s indifferent attitude, the old man roared, "Feng Zhixi! Genius researcher, youngest Chief—you certainly think you're capable, don't you!"
As the Chief Executive Officer of administrative affairs for the Federal Supreme Research Institute, the old Dean hadn't roared with such near-hysterical fury in a long time.
"If the experimental pod hadn't automatically triggered an alarm, we wouldn't have known your body had deteriorated to this extent! Look at yourself! Damaged pheromone reception, irreversible gland damage, and a near-death physiological alert! The logs show your vital functions dropped almost to zero. Just how fast are you trying to kill yourself?"
Looking at the young researcher who was staring blankly at him, the Dean laughed in sheer anger. "Are you surprised that data got out even though you disabled the monitoring system? Secretly shutting down the alarm system... you really are something!"
"If the near-death data hadn't triggered the core system alarm and forced a distress signal through, were you planning to keep me in the dark forever?"
The Dean grew angrier as he spoke. "A distress signal designed for immediate activation took *three days* to break through the firewalls you set up just to reach me. Should I praise you for being a genius?"
"Did it ever occur to you that after three days, I might have been looking at your corpse?" *Thud.* The old man slammed both palms onto the desk. As a Beta, if his pheromones hadn't been naturally faint, he might have suffered a total breakdown from the stress.
Since taking office, the old Dean had dealt with three generations of Chiefs, each more difficult than the last. Feng Zhixi was the youngest and the most eccentric and reclusive of them all.
If it weren't for his deep friendship with the boy’s mentor and the fact that he had practically watched him grow up, the Dean wouldn't have bothered. He just wanted to live long enough to retire in peace.
Faced with the raging Dean, Feng Zhixi only blinked. Before he could react, the old man, now in full storm mode, issued a mandatory leave order.
Both furious and worried, the Dean declared that all objections were overruled. Feng Zhixi was to get out of the Institute immediately—get far away—and not return for six months to a year!
If the Dean saw Feng Zhixi’s shadow anywhere near the experimental base within that timeframe, he would personally confiscate Feng’s space-folding independent experimental pod!
After venting his temper like a raging dragon, the Dean’s mood finally began to settle. It was then that he heard the difficult, prickly Chief give a soft "Mhm" in agreement.
That quiet "Mhm" seemed to explode in the Dean's ears. He looked up, stunned and bewildered, his mind filled with questions. The boy didn't object?!
The baffled Dean couldn't help but look out the window. Outside, the sun was shining, the grass was green, and no world-ending catastrophe was occurring. Everything was peaceful.
Had the boy been traumatized? Or was he scared by the Dean's severity? Or perhaps a year of mandatory leave was too harsh—should he change it to three months?
While the old man was still lost in a sea of confusion, Feng Zhixi had already accepted the mandatory leave order and quietly departed.
Leaving the Dean’s office, Feng Zhixi walked along the open corridor. He looked out at the vining grass being pressed low by the wind. The azure stems lay submissively against the ground, rising and falling in long, undulating waves of green that stretched into the distance like a verdant sea. It smelled like freedom.
Feng Zhixi couldn't help but smile. *This is good,* he whispered to himself.
No one knew that the young researcher standing in this long corridor was no longer the twenty-year-old Feng Zhixi—the arrogant, aloof man who cared only for his goals. He was the thirty-year-old man who had returned from death.
*I’m back.*
Silently, Feng Zhixi repeated the words to himself.
To be precise, he had been back for three days. At the exact moment the Dean mentioned—when the system triggered the near-death alarm—the twenty-year-old him had closed his eyes, and the thirty-year-old him had awakened in his younger body.
Right now, he was still the genius researcher of the Federal Supreme Research Institute. He hadn't yet been disgraced or utterly defeated. He wasn't yet a notorious pirate leader.
*This is truly good,* Feng Zhixi sighed.
In a high mood, he took a moment to admire the sea of vining grass—a view only visible from outside the Dean’s office—before turning to head toward his laboratory.
After all, he was about to take a long vacation. There were things he needed to prepare: Omega-specific inhibitors and Beta-disguise medication.
And, of course, the most important thing.
In the warm breeze and sunlight of the corridor, the young Omega flashed a clean, beautiful smile that was more dazzling than the sun itself.
His folding experimental pod!
***
