That evening, Cally remained at the base while Yang Ying took Randall, Katerina, two Ghost agents, and three Marine troopers—a total of eight—aboard a transport ship, accompanied by three Valkyrie-class frigates, to Gray Harbor.

In the asteroid belt, warships were commonplace, and even civilian vessels often carried weaponry; this was just how things were. Consequently, most ports did not refuse docking requests from military ships, and Gray Harbor was no exception. However, military and civilian vessels were treated differently; docking a warship involved more cumbersome procedures, and only specific military sectors accepted them. Furthermore, a strict rule applied: no weapon systems could be activated while docked at Gray Harbor, or the station would face retaliation from the major powers behind the port.

To avoid trouble, Yang Ying and his team were all in plain clothes, each carrying a Gauss pistol, as overt gear was more likely to attract unwanted attention.

Outside the port district, they split into two driverless taxis and headed to a secluded avenue based on the address provided by their contractor, with the taxis finally stopping beneath a small hotel.

After stepping out, Yang Ying took a moment to survey the building; the exterior walls were mottled, showing a few hairline cracks, and two windows on the second floor faced the street. The contractor, face partially obscured by a scarf, stood behind one of those windows, waving them over.

Yang Ying turned back. “Let’s go up.”

The group followed Yang Ying into the hotel, where a faint smell of decay immediately assailed them. Yet, apart from Katerina wrinkling her nose slightly, the others showed no outward reaction.

A plainly dressed, middle-aged man with short hair approached them, rubbing his hands together nervously in front of his chest. He wore glasses and sported a small mustache.

“I’m the owner. How may I help you?” the middle-aged man asked with a practiced smile.

“We’re looking for someone,” Yang Ying said, pointing upstairs. “The person we seek is in the room on the right on the second floor.”

“Ah, you’re looking for that guest. Please, the stairs are over here.” The owner stepped aside, gesturing with his finger.

They followed the narrow staircase to the second floor and stopped before the contractor’s door. A control panel sat beside it. Yang Ying reached out and pressed the doorbell button twice.

“Come in, the door isn’t locked,” replied the voice, still distorted by the voice modulator.

Yang Ying hit the release button, and the door slid open to the left.

The contractor was seated at a round table in the center of the room. There were four seats around the table; the contractor occupied one, and the other three were directly opposite him. Seeing them enter, he gestured to the remaining seats. “Please sit.”

Yang Ying took the middle seat, with Katerina and Randall flanking him. The five soldiers positioned themselves around the room and outside the door for surveillance.

The contractor was about to speak when Yang Ying raised a hand to stop him. A Ghost agent produced a detector and swept it around the room. “It’s clean in here. No listening devices.”

“You don’t trust me?” the contractor’s tone was level, betraying no emotion.

“The feeling is mutual, this is the asteroid belt, after all,” Yang Ying replied with a smile.

“You worry too much,” the contractor said. “This is a room I just took, specifically for this discussion. I swept it myself when I arrived. Besides, nobody ever pays attention to a small hotel like this; bugs are unlikely.”

Randall asked, “Do you have another residence?”

The contractor glanced at him. “Where I live has nothing to do with this mission. Please don’t pry into my affairs again.”

“He meant no harm, just a casual question,” Katerina interjected smoothly.

The contractor looked over the Ghost agents and Marines for a moment, noting their quick, precise movements and professional demeanor—clearly elite and seasoned fighters. His eyes lit up slightly. “Are these all your men?”

“They’re quite capable, aren’t they?” Yang Ying chuckled.

The contractor nodded. “Then we can discuss the specifics now.”

However, Yang Ying held up a hand first. “Before that, I need to know what to call you. You don’t need to give your real name, just a designation will suffice.”

“You can call me…” The contractor hesitated. “Bluebird. Yes, Bluebird. You can use that to address me.”

Yang Ying nodded. “Very well, Mr. Bluebird…”

“No, just Bluebird,” the contractor interrupted, emphasizing the point again.

Yang Ying was unconcerned. “Alright, Bluebird, the three small warships you requested are already docked in Gray Harbor’s third docking sector. If you wish to inspect them, you are welcome anytime after we finalize our agreement.”

Bluebird nodded. “It seems you have your own proposals regarding this contract. Please elaborate.”

“I just have a few points that need confirmation,” Yang Ying said, smiling. “First, the terms of this contract aren’t bad; why hasn’t anyone accepted it in a week?”

Yang Ying already knew the answer to this question; he merely sought to test Bluebird’s sincerity and hear if he spoke the truth. Bluebird’s response would dictate how the Tran Mercenary Group would treat him during the mission period.

Bluebird was silent for a moment.

“I should have explained this earlier. I apologize to the esteemed Commander here.” He stood and gave a deep bow.

“Please continue,” Yang Ying said, gesturing for him to resume.

Bluebird sat down again and spoke slowly. “My cargo was targeted by the Shark Pirate Gang before I even reached Gray Harbor. I arrived here just before their strike fighters caught up. Due to Gray Harbor’s strict prohibition on weaponry for military vessels, the Shark Pirates couldn't attack me directly with warships. But things might be different once we leave. As the delivery deadline drew closer, I needed to hire a mercenary group to protect the shipment. Unfortunately, I’ve been subject to covert sabotage by the Shark Gang’s operatives, causing many mercenary groups to back out when facing the Sharks. This is another reason I urged you to depart as soon as possible.”

“Did those operatives not approach you directly?” Randall asked.

“Of course they did,” Bluebird immediately confirmed. “Which is why I’ve had to change my lodgings almost every day recently. And I do have bodyguards.”

“Bodyguards?” Yang Ying concentrated, looking up at the ceiling. “Are you referring to the gentleman on the roof? He seems rather capable.”

As the words left his mouth, a gloved pair of hands gripped the upper ledge of the window, and a figure vaulted instantly in from outside with agile, fluid movements. Simultaneously, several Gauss pistols were leveled at him.

Bluebird shouted, “Hold fire! He is my bodyguard.”

“Stand down your weapons,” Yang Ying commanded. The others lowered their guns.

The bodyguard had jet-black hair, wore a grey tracksuit, and his face was half-obscured by dark tactical goggles. A laser pistol was clipped to his belt.