Yang Ying had never shown his hand in front of Pipinov, not even when offering assistance on the street. No, he had always secretly used his mental power to simulate sound, never revealing his true abilities, so no one suspected anything. Consequently, Pipinov remained completely unaware that Yang Ying was a peak Master. Now, hearing Yang Ying casually mention that he and Vorungas didn't need oxygen, felt like being struck over the head with a blunt club, leaving him utterly dazed.

"You two are both Level Three experts? That means your strength is about the same as the Captains?" With great effort, Pipinov recovered from his stammering and immediately asked, his eyes shining with sudden realization. Fortunately, the underwater bus was completely empty at the moment, just the three of them, otherwise, such loud exclamations would surely have caused a commotion.

On the way over, Pipinov had tried to strike up a conversation with Vorungas. However, in Vorungas’s eyes, Pipinov was merely an Octopod from a lower civilization, utterly unqualified to warrant his attention. In the past, before meeting Yang Ying, even in such a situation, he would have sent subordinates to handle negotiations. But now, following Yang Ying, neither of them had brought any aides, so Vorungas had simply been cold and dismissive.

After being rebuffed several times, Pipinov understood that Vorungas did not wish to speak and so he ceased his attempts. After all, this large, stout figure was an honored guest accompanying Yang Ying, a Burker from the ninth-ranked High Civilization. Even if Pipinov was dissatisfied, what could he possibly do? Nothing at all.

Now, hearing that both of them were Level Three experts, all his past confusions naturally resolved themselves. Vorungas ignored him because their statuses were vastly different; Yang Ying treated him courteously because of his good breeding. In short, in Pipinov’s view, whatever a Captain-level figure did, whether right or wrong, was understandable given their stature.

"It's just Level Three experts. Ur-Ree has plenty of those; why make such a fuss? Even your Baantendi has fourteen Level Three experts, including one Peak Level Three Chief Captain. I didn't see such a splendid guard formation even on the Class One supply stars established by the High Civilizations," Yang Ying offered in a placating tone. He deliberately withheld the fact that he himself was a Peak Level Three Master, fearing that Pipinov might have a heart attack given his current state.

"How can this place be compared to a Class One supply star?" Pipinov shook his head. "The security on Class One supply stars relies on the background of the founding race, which deters petty criminals. But our status as a low civilization is too humble. Virtually any High Civilization race capable of reaching Baant Planet has a far deeper foundation than ours. To maintain order, we must display an overwhelming security force."

He sighed: "The fourteen security teams represent the entirety of the strength of the billions of Baant people on the planet, mobilized to achieve this scale. Compared to the effortless display on a Class One supply star, the difference is immense. Alas, in the end, what good are a few experts? True strength lies in the entire race being powerful..." He paused suddenly, realizing he had gotten carried away. "Ah, I didn't mean to imply you two are useless, I was just seized by a moment of reflection." He snapped back to attention, clearly worried that Yang Ying and Vorungas might be displeased.

"That is a valid point." Vorungas uttered this first sentence, then fell silent again.

Yang Ying was certainly not going to be offended by such a minor comment; his temperament was not that narrow. He simply said, "Alright, discussing this is pointless now. I think the underwater bus should be stopping soon; perhaps we should disembark?"

"We have to wait for the ballast to be taken in first, otherwise, the moment the door opens, seawater will rush in," Pipinov replied.

Just then, the underwater bus came to a halt but did not open its hatches. Instead, a broadcast in the Baant language played over the intercom, repeated three times in succession.

"See, that's the request for everyone inside to be careful during the flooding. For us Baant people, breathing underwater is instinctive, so there's no need to worry. However, for aliens who evolved on land, putting on their submersible gear before the water comes in is critically important," Pipinov explained. "The underwater bus operations are fully automated. After three warnings, the flooding begins."

As his words ended, seawater began surging in from all sides. The current was swift, quickly covering the entire floor, and in less than a minute, the entire cabin was filled with water.

"Esteemed guests, please proceed this way." Pipinov's voice sounded slightly different underwater, yet somehow felt entirely natural—as if it was meant to be that way, more organic than in the air above the surface.

The access hatch opened to one side, and Pipinov led Yang Ying and Vorungas out.

The water pressure on the seabed was considerable, but Pipinov, being a native, moved with ease. Yang Ying and Vorungas, with their strength sufficient to disdain such pressure, simply walked into the city surrounded by water.

Compared to the Baant structures on the surface, this underwater city possessed a distinctly different style. According to Pipinov’s introduction, the Baant people used a special construction material to build these cities, one capable of maintaining its integrity against the deep-sea pressure and oceanic erosion for extended periods. The invention of this material was a monumental event in their history, its originator revered like figures such as Edison on Earth—one who brought light to humanity, while this material brought security to the Baant.

Pipinov continued, "The ocean is vast and boundless, hiding many dangers. For a long time, the Baant people were constantly battling giant sea monsters. It was only about fifteen hundred years ago that we achieved a relatively stable and peaceful environment, and the improvement of that environment is inextricably linked to the invention of this building material."

Pipinov somehow procured a small submersible, comparable in size and function to a small passenger car on Earth. The three of them sat inside, Pipinov expertly taking the helm, navigating the sub throughout the city, recounting tales of its evolution and pointing out various historical landmarks.

Meanwhile, on the beach near Baantendi, a tall, slender figure walked slowly ashore. This person was clad in black, their exposed skin a pale blue. They had a long, narrow face adorned with whisker-like appendages reminiscent of a whale’s, and eyes that were frigid, seemingly devoid of any emotion.

A small Octopod mediator followed closely behind, his expression one of fawning eagerness, clearly aware that his employer was not someone to trifle with.

That guy, the Eighth Ranker from the Orion Arm, the Haisen—I need to be extremely careful. He doesn't look like a friend. The moment his eyes fixed on me, I nearly broke into a cold sweat and dehydrated, the Octopod thought inwardly, wiping a bead of moisture. Maybe this Haisen is a psychic? Yes, he must be. But is he as powerful as a Captain? No, impossible. Captains are so rare, even across the galaxy; you don’t just run into one casually.

"Did everyone from that vessel go to that city?" This Haisen was Taryn, who had been tracking the Juxiu (Giant Beast). The Juxiu's flight path had been calculated days in advance. Taryn knew the ship was headed for Baant Planet, so after his defeat on Sol Star, he immediately boarded a vessel despite his injuries to follow the Juxiu here.

During the three days in hyperspace, his severed left hand had regrown through treatment, and his internal injuries from the previous battle had also been stabilized. He was in peak condition, yet he knew that even at his best, he could not win a direct confrontation; the previous two failures had proven that.

The Octopod replied, "Yes, the people from that ship hired Pipinov as their intermediary. I asked; Pipinov booked three seats on the underwater bus."

"Enough," Taryn cut him off. "Don't repeat things I already know."

The Octopod immediately clamped his mouth shut. He inwardly wondered why this Haisen was asking about the whereabouts of Pipinov’s clients; it was clearly not a friendly inquiry.

Perhaps those two have a grudge? the Octopod mused silently.

However, he dared not voice the question. While he lacked telepathy, his intuition wasn't sharp, but his job required constant interaction with others, giving him a keen sense of timing. He sensed this was absolutely not the right moment to ask, and made a silent resolution: when the opportunity arose, he would slip away to report this situation to the security forces. This Haisen was highly suspicious!

Taryn glanced at the Octopod, sending a shiver down the creature’s spine, a chill rising from his tailbone straight to the base of his brain. It felt as if his every move was being scrutinized.

This guest is terrifying. I need to extract myself as soon as possible. Losing a business deal is fine, but losing my life is the real issue. If I stay here any longer, my very existence will be in jeopardy, the Octopod swallowed hard and offered a nervous, forced smile, hoping to bluff his way out.

Taryn ignored him and raised his hand. Four more figures clad in black robes emerged behind him. Their faces were hidden, but an aura of cold menace emanated from them, as if they were perpetually poised to kill.

At that moment, an underwater bus surfaced before them, its hatch opening.

"Let's go. We mustn't keep our 'friends' waiting," Taryn said coldly.

"Yes, Master." The four black-robed figures responded in unison. As one passed the Octopod, he suddenly drew a silver lightsaber. With a flash of silver light, the Octopod was cleanly sliced in half.

"Heh. Trying to harbor petty schemes in my presence—nobody gets away with that here. Attempting to report me means only one destination: death."

The black-robed assassin casually sheathed his lightsaber back onto his belt, as if performing a trivial task. "Besides, even if you hadn't planned to squeal, your fate was already sealed. Only the dead can keep secrets best."

Excluding Taryn, the remaining four black-robed individuals were all Level Three Experts!

The five figures filed into the submersible. The underwater bus, driverless and operating purely on programmed sequence, paid no heed to the events outside. Once everyone was inside, the hatch closed, and the craft submerged.