An Junlie estimated briefly and felt that at this rate, he could shoot down the interstellar vessel within three years. As for why he needed to shoot it down, it wasn't written there, but he understood: shooting down the vessel meant seizing its operational route, thereby developing an interstellar trajectory to escape Silver Talisman Star.

Following this were many, many charts: concerning "how to obtain surface matter from the airship before it explodes," "the mental image of the wormhole," and "the most likely scenarios upon passing through a wormhole"...

Every record bore different signatures; some even had seven or eight people signing together. Beneath the charts was an oath: that what was stated was true, and if false, the signatory would become a test subject for the Dead Pervert.

An Junlie gazed silently at the data on the light screen, sinking into thought.

Today was May 12th. There were 27 days left until the interstellar vessel dropped the prison airships. Ziye and Old Dog had told him to prepare well; he wondered how far along they were. He absolutely had to take some concrete action.

The only thing he could work on right now was the "mental image of the wormhole."

A wormhole was a rift in interstellar space, connecting two separate spaces, but it wasn't a stable location. It appeared randomly and could collapse at any moment. The wormholes near Silver Talisman Star had appeared three years ago and had collapsed six times. He remembered that the wormhole experts in the Corps had studied it specifically but couldn't determine its natural time of demise.

This was a very troublesome issue.

If the wormhole vanished, and he attempted to leave using the old route, he would very likely be lost in the boundless expanse of interstellar space. If it remained in its original state, that would be equally disastrous, as there would be no way to predict where it might transport him, nor what might be waiting for him.

As he was pondering this, Ziye walked down the corridor carrying something. He moved to meet her, about to inquire, but Ziye thrust the object into his arms first. "Here is your mecha's core computer. It’s repaired, and the energy cells are full. You can use it for now. I haven't looked at any of the contents inside. Your mecha should be reassembled in a few days."

An Junlie took the core computer, momentarily at a loss for words. "Oh, okay. Thank you."

Ziye looked at him, seeming about to say something, but changed her mind just as the words reached her lips: "You need to prepare yourself mentally for a long stay here. Getting out won't be quick."

An Junlie looked directly into her eyes. "No. As long as we can find the entry route, leaving isn't difficult."

Ziye shook her head, then nodded. "Theoretically, that's correct. The route you fell through is very helpful for us in finding an interstellar channel. However, don't forget the inherent danger of that wormhole. Moreover, theory is just theory. Until results materialize, it’s nothing more than speculation, utterly meaningless. You shouldn't place too much hope on it."

An Junlie fell silent for a moment. "I understand."

Seeing that he looked rather dejected, Ziye considered offering a few words of comfort but ultimately said nothing, turning instead and walking down the corridor toward the workshop.

An Junlie sat down again and activated the core computer.

The core computer initiated automatically. As soon as he turned it on, the voice function activated: "The Commander is tired from work today. Remember to attend a meeting at Angel Headquarters tomorrow; everyone is waiting for you. In seven days, the little ones on Yifeng Star will graduate from training; you need to give a speech and make an appearance. Thirteen days from now, the leadership of Newland Star is changing hands; that bald, fat candidate is requesting that you and Xia Han show up, probably around three days in advance. And... also, this time everyone wants to take a trip to Siyatu Star—what do you think? Only one month left, after all; disobeying the collective opinion is not good!"

This was the itinerary Lan Li, the Deputy Commander, had sent him just after he first encountered Kalu. Lan Li always spoke softly, smiling sweetly, appearing utterly understanding.

At the time, he had been too busy dealing with Kalu to reply. He could easily imagine how "ferocious" Lan Li must have become upon discovering his escape, hunting for him across the world.

But this time, no matter what, Lan Li wouldn't be able to hunt him down.

An Junlie looked at the ordinarily mundane itinerary, now rendered impossible to fulfill because he had fallen onto Silver Talisman Star. Even if he could accurately shoot down the interstellar warship next month and analyze its trajectory, executing an immediate departure from Silver Talisman Star might still not be guaranteed.

Consequently, he wouldn't be able to complete any of the items on the schedule.

What a headache.

He could picture the interstellar news channels now broadcasting his "mysterious death"... Lan Li must be hopping mad. The Vorn Galaxy was a massive, succulent piece of meat, coveted by many forces; someone was surely taking advantage of the chaos.

An Junlie felt completely secure about the Legion.

His only source of worry was...

An Junlie subconsciously used the core computer to scan the interstellar routes on Silver Talisman Star, wanting to check if the situation was truly as described. As soon as he activated the scan, the core computer emitted a piercing alarm: "Obstacle encountered, unable to scan. Obstacle encountered, please vacate this area immediately!"

Nearby, Unit 110, expressionless, remarked, "Junk computer."

An Junlie shot it a sideways glance.

Unit 120 was more perceptive of moods and apologized with a smile, "Mr. Alien, please ignore it; that's just its stubborn nature."

An Junlie suddenly found the exchange quite amusing and couldn't help but smile. He closed his eyes to cool down, then accessed the final coordinate locked after killing Kalu in the core computer, cross-referenced it with the wormhole coordinates in the supplementary charts, and brought up the trajectory map of his fall.

However, he couldn't confirm the crucial segments of the route. He decided to copy the "mental image of the wormhole" supplementary chart three or four times, marking all the uncertain areas for systematic elimination later. While he was at it, he perfected the coordinates for the stellar gates and force field collapse points near the wormhole.

An Junlie possessed an astonishing, almost photographic memory. But when it came to drawing, whether taught by the physical education teacher or the doorman, he fumbled on the manual light screen for ages, producing results akin to a three-year-old's artwork.

Defeated, he tossed the stylus aside, took a drink of water while narrating, and had Unit 430 handle the drawing.

To his frustration, even 430’s drawings were ten times better than his own! A simple schematic line drawing of the route from Siyatu Star to Silver Talisman Star was completed in less than five minutes. The visualization was clean, labeled with coordinates, succinct, and precise—exactly as he had envisioned it.

Unit 120, usually more personable when dealing with clients, noticed his crestfallen expression and consoled him: "Everyone has their strengths, and machines have their weaknesses. F430 uses the standard program written by Bean Sprout Master for drawing. As a human, it is very normal for you not to measure up; there is no need to be sad."

An Junlie sprayed a mouthful of water onto the light screen.

Indeed, the robots and their master shared the same disposition—enough to drive a person to distraction.

In this establishment, Ziye was first class; the robots were second class; he himself could only be classified as a third-class citizen.