Chapter Two: An Unexpected Harvest

Wherever space pirates were spotted, it was a clear sign that some fat prey would soon pass by—the intelligence networks of those pirates were far more formidable than the likes of Lone Thief, a solitary operator. Still, after considering for a moment, Wild Devour decided to heed the lessons Lone Thief had drilled into him: never compete with pirates for loot. Yet, youth’s impetuousness could not be denied—though he wouldn’t fight for the spoils, he certainly wouldn’t miss the chance to witness the excitement. Since childhood, Wild Devour had often listened to the elders in the small city recount tales of pirates. Deep down, he harbored a longing to become a free pirate himself; otherwise, how could he have so naturally followed Lone Thief’s teachings to become a lone space bandit?

Whether or not he was a formidable one was another matter, but at least Wild Devour’s stature was undeniably large.

For several days, Wild Devour shadowed a pirate ship—clearly of a higher class than the usual pirate vessels—skulking and shifting through the asteroid belt with great caution. The pirates themselves were evidently uncertain about the exact location where their target would appear. Wild Devour, too, could sense the presence and movements of other pirates nearby. More than once, Lee Yi observed pirate ships detecting each other’s presence, but no battles broke out; it was likely that these ships had reached some sort of agreement for this occasion.

Most of the pirate ships in the asteroid belt were ones Lone Thief had mentioned before as being particularly active in these parts. Yet Wild Devour also noticed several suspicious vessels with no pirate insignia at all.

As time went by, Wild Devour’s curiosity about the pirates’ true objective only deepened.

On this day, Wild Devour parked his Multi-limbed Beast ship in a canyon atop a massive asteroid and reclined in his chair to practice the Dragon Devouring Technique. He had been so preoccupied with trailing the pirate ship lately that he’d had little time for cultivation. Now that the pirate ship had halted, he seized the rare moment of idleness to catch up on his neglected training.

A piercing alarm shattered his meditation, followed by relentless shuddering of the ship. Wild Devour was jolted from his trance—the sudden tremor nearly caused his internal energy to stray into the wrong meridian, frightening him into a cold sweat.

Quickly, he checked the ship’s control panels and queried the main control AI—a top-tier system Lone Thief had salvaged and repaired from Wild Devour’s last escape pod.

Soon, Wild Devour grasped the situation: the pirates had finally collided with their target, and a fierce battle was raging not far off in the starry void. The recent tremor had been caused by the asteroid his ship was docked on being struck by a main cannon blast.

A cold sweat broke out on Wild Devour’s brow—thankfully, the cannon fire had hit the far side of the asteroid, and the rock was large enough to absorb the impact. If it had been smaller, or if the blast had struck the near side, he might have been vaporized into cosmic dust before he even realized it.

With another violent tremor, Wild Devour snapped fully to his senses. He launched his ship at once, fleeing at top speed from the battle zone.

Data from the ship’s AI revealed that the energy output of those cannon blasts could only have come from battleship-grade main guns—strictly controlled weaponry throughout the galaxy. Clearly, this was no ordinary affair.

No one knows how long he drifted, but at last, the distant flashes of energy weapons faded and the battle seemed to draw to a close. Observing the ships dispersing on his instruments, Wild Devour deduced that the pirates had emerged victorious. He considered leaving this troubled area behind but was ultimately unable to resist his curiosity.

Piloting his ship toward the former battlefield, he gazed at the vast field of floating wreckage and was stunned. Pirates rarely killed or destroyed their quarry; blowing ships to pieces would ruin the cargo—such wanton destruction was odd. Could it be that the pirates had not been after the cargo at all?

As Wild Devour idled his ship on a nearby asteroid, lost in thought, three unusual small cargo containers drifted out from the wreckage, heading directly toward him.

At the sight of the three intact containers, Wild Devour’s spirits soared. He knew these cargo boxes all too well—they were designed to hold valuables, boasting high security only the owner could unlock. Ordinary folk, even if they found them, might never get them open.

But Lone Thief had once stolen a box just like this and managed to open it—one of his favorite stories to boast about before Wild Devour. Wild Devour had seen that very container displayed proudly in Lone Thief’s residence many times.

The containers themselves were valuable enough—how had the pirates overlooked them?

Wild Devour did not recklessly rush to retrieve the boxes. Lone Thief had taught him well: caution never goes amiss. What if other small ships lurked nearby, or surveillance devices had been left behind? A single unmanned craft could do the job.

He kept a close watch as the three containers drifted deeper into the asteroid belt, bumping off rocks as they went—his heart twinged with every collision.

He knew the containers were tough and their contents well-protected, but the growing instincts of a space bandit made him wince. He already considered the boxes his own.

Not until the containers were about to drift out of his ship’s sensor range did Wild Devour finally, cautiously, follow. With practiced speed, he retrieved all three into his ship, then zigzagged through the asteroid belt for half a day before returning to base.

This, too, was Lone Thief’s teaching—always check for a tail before returning to base. It was a sound habit. This time, it allowed Wild Devour to shake off a pursuing mech that had spotted his ship, and no one saw him recover the cargo boxes.

Back at base, staring at the three alloy containers each over three meters tall, Wild Devour nearly jumped for joy.

Yet soon he frowned—he lacked Lone Thief’s skill to open them. According to Lone Thief, the intricate AI locks even had self-destruct and tracking features. Every signal around had to be jammed, or the owner could track them down.

Fortunately, both his ship and base were equipped for signal jamming—another of Lone Thief’s boasts. Wild Devour couldn’t help but admire his mentor; the man was a genius at this, though his martial prowess left much to be desired.

For a full month, Wild Devour did not leave the base, instead devoting himself to the Dragon Devouring Technique. This, too, was Lone Thief’s advice: after any major heist, lay low for some time, whether or not you’ve been discovered. These three cargo boxes certainly counted as a major score.

When Lone Thief returned to base and was led before the three containers, his eyes shone an eerie green and he stood dumbstruck, prompting Wild Devour to burst out laughing and tease him mercilessly.

After a long time, Lone Thief finally recovered and, ignoring the mockery, asked in detail how Wild Devour had acquired the boxes, especially his movements on the way back. At last, after a deep sigh, he clapped Wild Devour on the shoulder and said, “Kid, you may not have much else, but your luck is so damned monstrous you could stumble into any good fortune.”

Wild Devour straightened. “Old man, can you open them?”

Lone Thief glared at him. “Of course! I’m Lone Thief. Even if these are the latest model, I have ways to get them open. Watch and learn.”

But the task proved less simple than Lone Thief had claimed. He took Wild Devour and the heaviest box on a journey across half the planet, finally arriving at a deep, somewhat intimidating underwater base. Watching the robots scurrying about, Wild Devour couldn’t suppress his curiosity. “Old man, what is this place? Who would have guessed you had so many secrets? Are there more you’re not telling me?”

Lone Thief sighed. “I’ll tell you what you’re meant to know. Don’t ask about the rest. This is a base under construction. The one we used before is less secure—high-level monsters harass it, and meteors crashing into the atmosphere are a constant threat. What if a meteor hits the base one day? Here we’re safer, with lake water above us, denser atmosphere, and a strange energy over the lake that blocks all electronic signals. No matter what search gear a space carrier uses, they’ll never find this base.”

Wild Devour grew more convinced that Lone Thief was no ordinary man.

Without further explanation, Lone Thief summoned a robot to haul the container into a peculiar, equipment-filled room. Sealing himself inside a strange mech, he began to work, banishing Wild Devour with a warning about the dangers within.

Nearly half a month passed before Lone Thief, looking thinner than ever, finally emerged from the mysterious room. His face was so grave that Wild Devour couldn’t help asking, “Old man, what’s wrong? If you can’t open it, just toss it in the sea and feed the fish.”

Lone Thief shot him a harsh glare. “So you doubt me? I am Lone Thief!”

Wild Devour grinned. “If you’ve opened it, all the better. So what’s inside? What’s it worth?”

Lone Thief sighed. “Kid, are you sure no one saw you collect these boxes? No one followed you back?”

Seeing his mentor’s expression, Wild Devour realized this was no simple matter. After carefully recalling every step, he replied, “If you trust the signal-jamming on your ship, I can guarantee I wasn’t seen or tailed—just as you taught me.”

Hearing this, Lone Thief’s face took on a strange look, and he beckoned Wild Devour into the room.

Before the opened container, Wild Devour stopped short.

The box was full of crystals, each about the size of a fist, all different colors and shapes. He picked one up and examined it for a long time, then looked at Lone Thief and blurted, “Damn it, what is this? A whole box of crystals—worthless! What can you do with these besides decoration?”

Before he could finish, Lone Thief collapsed to the floor, then scrambled upright, staring at Wild Devour in astonishment. “Kid, don’t you have a Divine Beast?”

Wild Devour’s expression turned odd. Though his twin plant-type Divine Beasts were rarely mentioned—plant types were not much discussed, and for most people, Divine Beasts were an absolute secret, a last line of defense. No one ever asked about them, let alone their abilities. Even his four female attendants had better Divine Beasts, so he had long since gotten used to not mentioning his own.

Lone Thief, seeing his face, grew curious. “Kid, I’ve never seen your Divine Beast all this time. Summon it for me.”

After a moment’s silence, seeing Lone Thief growing annoyed, Wild Devour reluctantly summoned his Divine Beast.

With a flash of green light, both Lone Thief and Wild Devour himself were startled.

A plant as tall as a person appeared, crowned with a frighteningly large blood-red flower. In the center of the blossom was a neutral human face, eerily lifelike. As it emerged, the strange flower croaked in a raspy, unnatural voice, calling Wild Devour “Master.”

Wild Devour cried out in surprise. The last time he had seen his Divine Beast, it had only reached his knee, and the bud had been as small as his fist. Somehow, it had grown into this monstrous form.

Lone Thief recovered first. He stepped closer, studying the bizarre flower for a long time before saying, “Kid, what kind of Divine Beast is this? I’ve never seen anything like it. You really are something, keeping a beast like this secret from your old man all this time!”