Indeed, the moment she looked up and saw An Junlie, it felt as if the world had warped into something fantastical. She had never imagined meeting him again, much less under these circumstances.

She knew An Junlie, but An Junlie did not know her. She decided against wasting breath on pleasantries, instead communicating with him using the ultimate technique she had mastered on Yin Fu Star: the "Poker Face."

The Poker Face was incredibly widespread on Yin Fu Star. According to the inmates, whether facing an intimidating inquisitor or a soothing psychologist, maintaining a perfect poker face meant that even if Detective Conan crawled out of an anime, he wouldn't be able to deduce a single thought from you.

Evidently, Ziye succeeded.

Not only did An Junlie fail to decipher her thoughts, but he was actually angered into unconsciousness by her!

Little Sprout stretched the tiny sprout atop its head, connecting to the mech’s optical computer to begin its investigation and search. Ziye took off her gloves, drank a glass of water handed to her by A120, and sat down in the corridor to rest.

An Junlie’s mech was a top-tier product, inside and out. The extent of its damage suggested the battle that caused it must have been brutally fierce.

However, he certainly didn't know that once you entered this planet, there was no leaving.

Ziye stared at the scattered mech components, pondering whether she should inform him of this miserable truth.

Most people exiled to this planet knew they would likely live out their days there. Those who accepted their fate might marry or take a spouse among the prisoners and raise a family; those who couldn't cope often ended their own lives with a gunshot.

There was an unwritten rule on the planet: never tell the children they are on a prison world. Because ignorance is bliss. Most inhabitants were willing to teach the younger generation everything they knew, hoping the youth could forge their own interstellar passage out.

Did An Junlie's arrival count as injecting fresh blood?

Ziye offered a silent, bitter smile.

Never mind. She should fix his mech first; the rest could wait. Since data needed recording, a machine number was essential. As the owner was still unconscious, she simply assigned it a temporary designation: X007.

The 'X' series denoted mechs not manufactured on Yin Fu Star, requiring further study, and '007' was chosen because there were six units preceding it.

Mech repair was certainly a highly technical task.

After dismantling the 007, Ziye discovered its damage was remarkably subtle. Four or five points of damage were perilously close to the critical threshold; a mere half-millimeter deeper, and the machine—and pilot—would have been destroyed. It could only mean the pilot possessed both extraordinary skill and meticulously calculated every single impact.

Beyond that, the mech’s routine maintenance was also excellent.

A110 had already scanned the general structure. Ziye examined the mech closely against the schematic, stripped off the outer plating, and instructed Little Sprout to begin in-depth analysis.

Once the principles were understood, she began reassembly.

Because there were only two hours left before the purple sun set!

Repairing a ten-meter-tall mech completely overnight was impossible. Ziye’s assembly was merely putting the outer shell back on, ensuring An Junlie would see the mech looking superficially normal.

As for the actual repair, she could easily claim the metal dissolution required twenty-four hours, re-solidification needed two days for parts, and the whole repair process would take a week... An Junlie wasn't running anywhere for now anyway. Thinking this, Ziye confidently directed the robots to move the crucial components into the workshop.

The purple sun slowly dipped, and the sky began to brighten.

Man is iron, food is steel; even a man as rugged as An Junlie couldn't conquer hunger. As dawn broke, he awoke, overcome by starvation.

He had never felt his stomach clinging so acutely to his spine. Worse still, his head felt like it was being jabbed by needles, waves of sharp pain assaulting his neural pathways, forcing him to grit his teeth.

Hunger definitely wouldn't cause a headache.

An Junlie rubbed his forehead, recalling Ziye’s mischievous smile right before he passed out. Had she tampered with him while he was unconscious?

"Too careless!"

An Junlie bit the inside of his cheek, using the sudden pain to force himself awake. He should have been wary the moment the young woman’s eyes lit up upon seeing his mech. If his suspicions were correct, his machine had definitely suffered foul play!

As his focus sharpened slightly, a violent wave of dizziness hit him. Before he could sit up, a profound weakness washed over his limbs. He quickly reasoned it best to feign continued unconsciousness, remaining perfectly still while observing his surroundings with his eyes.

The courtyard was the same as before, and his position hadn't changed. But near him on the ground were two distinct tracks left by robotic movement.

Generally, robots moved without leaving tracks, unless carrying an exceptionally heavy load. There was nothing in this courtyard heavy enough to imprint footfalls, save for his mech. A surge of fury shot straight to An Junlie’s temples, but in his current state, he couldn't crush an unmutated ant...

After a while, faint footsteps approached. An Junlie instantly shut his eyes, maintaining his deep sleep state, while mentally assessing the weight of the approaching presence.

Ziye’s steps were as light as feathers, seemingly gliding without touching the ground. This further solidified An Junlie’s conviction: she was definitely not ordinary. If anything, she might be an assassin from some distant planet, and her decision not to kill him implied she had further plans!

If she knew what An Junlie was thinking at that moment, she might have spat blood in frustration.

Having worked through the night to barely complete her grand scheme before dawn, she had dragged herself up after only two hours of sleep to avoid arousing An Junlie’s suspicion. She hadn't expected him still to be out cold.

She yawned widely, using her fingertip to brush away the tears welling in the corner of her eye, and murmured, "Aliens are just too fragile. The particles stuck to the mech have already regenerated, and he's still not awake."

She really wanted to kick him.

Little Sprout looked down at An Junlie from her head, shaking the two leaves on top, and chimed in, "His brainwaves haven't fully recov— No!"

The moment those words left its mouth, a chilling wave of killing intent struck. Ziye instinctively recoiled, but An Junlie was faster. He sprang from the ground, his hand shooting out to clamp precisely around her throat.

His hand was large and warm; she could feel the rough calluses around her neck. His nails were neatly trimmed, but the pad of his thumb rested perfectly against her carotid artery. This meant that with just a slight increase in pressure, her situation would become tragic.

Not only a sneak attack, but he was intending to deliver a killing blow!

Ziye froze, stunned by the sudden turn of events. Seeing things turn ugly, Little Sprout quietly transmitted a message via sound wave: “I was just about to say he was faking being asleep when he moved. An Junlie truly lives up to his reputation as a powerhouse!”

Ziye remained momentarily stunned.

It wasn't entirely her fault; she had seen him move the instant An Junlie launched his attack, but she hadn't been able to react. His speed was too swift, too ruthless, too decisive—they were simply not on the same level.

An Junlie spoke coldly, "What exactly are you trying to do?"