Little Sprout piloted the airship, weaving it through the forest canopy. All sorts of animals stretched their limbs and flapped their wings in the woods below, completely unafraid of them. A few particularly vicious species even attempted to pounce on the airship.

Naturally, Ziye had been prepared; a thin, electrified film coated the exterior of the vessel. Any animal that dared approach within half a meter would be instantly knocked down by the radiating shock.

“Ziye, look!” Little Sprout suddenly bounced up, pointing excitedly ahead. “Look, a Dragon-Scaled Lizard! Wow, what a huge one! That could definitely become a Lizard-Type Mech!”

Ziye followed the direction indicated by the tiny sprout bending down from the top of Little Sprout’s head. Deep within the purple forest cover, half of the Dragon-Scaled Lizard’s massive body was visible, resting lazily.

A Lizard-Type Mech? Ziye couldn't help but recall what An Junlie had said: bio-mechs were currently only theoretical; the person capable of achieving it hadn't even been born yet. Perhaps she could try it herself? After all, failure wouldn't hurt her.

She considered it briefly and nodded. “Mech armor made from specially treated lizard hide would have better flexibility than pure metal, offering excellent user protection while retaining the inherent sturdiness of metal. It would be far superior to materials like Fan-Crystal or Tri-Titanium Alloy.”

However, Ziye wasn't skilled at hunting. Any prey they encountered would require summoning Old Dog to handle the job. If she were to act herself, the most she could manage was to obliterate the target. By any means necessary, she could only achieve destruction; nothing usable could ever be salvaged.

“Pity that fellow won’t get to see it,” Little Sprout mimicked shaking its sprout head solemnly.

Ziye shot it a harsh glare, then suddenly remembered something. She grabbed Little Sprout’s sprout and asked, “It’s been a whole day. Tell me, did An Junlie successfully traverse the wormhole?”

Little Sprout swayed its sprout, its eyes darting around. “You’re right! I installed trackers on both him and his mech; I almost forgot.”

As it spoke, it brought up the light screen to check the tracking data. The trackers had been functioning normally the day before, so they had merely recorded the route information without her paying special attention.

Now, hearing Ziye mention it, she began monitoring the trackers closely.

The tracker had already entered deep space, operating smoothly. Little Sprout’s leaf shot up into a ‘V’ shape in excitement. Just then, the signal abruptly cut out. Its eyes widened; the disconnection was bizarre, vanishing instantly like a stone sinking into the sea.

Little Sprout expanded the search radius but could not receive the signal again. It felt as if the power had suddenly failed or the tracker had instantly malfunctioned, leaving absolutely no trace.

How could this happen?

Little Sprout refused to give up and reinitiated the tracking sequence. This time, she couldn't even locate the tracker’s last known position. Without a target, the signal couldn't extend into space, let alone pinpoint a location.

Even if An Junlie had discovered the tracker on his person and thrown it out into space, the tracker in the mech was embedded internally. It shouldn’t fail unless the mech was destroyed. What was going on now?

Little Sprout sent out another search command, widening the scope significantly.

Yet, no matter how hard it looked, the tracker remained lost to the void, silent and gone.

Could it be that An Junlie had suddenly met with disaster?

Anything was possible within a wormhole.

Given An Junlie’s speed, he should have passed through the wormhole ages ago. But one couldn't rule out the wormhole collapsing or altering its geometry, trapping him inside. If that were the case, being stuck for two days would be the least of his worries; he could be trapped for a lifetime.

This was likely bad news? Little Sprout covertly glanced up at Ziye, unsure whether to share the information. In reality, even though Ziye couldn't decipher the flashing numbers, she understood the basic procedures. Thus, she instantly grasped what had happened.

She simply couldn't believe what she was seeing.

She opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but her lips trembled for a long moment, only managing to whisper, “Since he chose to leave, he must have considered all possible consequences. Why should we care?”

Little Sprout’s obsidian eyes stared unblinking at Ziye. “Master, you are lying!”

Ziye was left speechless for a moment, then sighed. “Then what can I do?”

What could she do?

To have someone to whom one could say, “What should we do?”—that was immense happiness. Many times, she would rather be that person being asked than the one forced to say, “What can we do?”

The tone was laced with too much bitterness and helplessness.

Space was a remarkably safe place, safe enough to do anything one desired, yet it was also treacherous. In sovereign-less territories, one could be attacked or crushed at any moment. More dangerous still were the death zones, wormholes, and anomalous spaces; a single rogue void storm could annihilate large numbers of people.

But still, she felt as if the sky had turned gray.

If she hadn't overstated the possibility by 10%, perhaps he wouldn't have taken that risk; if she had analyzed it more meticulously, giving him a surer prospect of success before letting him go, perhaps this tragedy wouldn't have occurred...

An Junlie’s disappearance was directly tied to her. Beyond the sharp pain in her heart, there was overwhelming guilt and self-reproach. Why did she let him go?

Why?

Why??

Why was Heaven so cruel?! To let him survive landing on Silver Rune Star, only to refuse him a chance to leave alive???

Why?

Ziye felt her knees buckle. She sank onto the floor, looking utterly bereft, her face ashen, tears unable to fall. Little Sprout gazed at her blankly, and this time, didn't even know how to begin offering comfort.

The silver communicator on her wrist flashed incessantly, irritating her. Her inner self felt hollowed out, her organs aching with an unbearable weight. She closed her eyes and took several deep, hard breaths, forcing her heartbeat to steady. With a trembling hand, she accepted the incoming call, lacking the strength to even activate the screen.

“Little Stink, what is wrong with you? Trying to pull a disappearing act? I finally made the effort to visit your place, and you leave me a note saying, ‘Out on business’?”

Ziye turned her face away, composing herself for a few moments to normalize her voice, and murmured, “You didn’t schedule an appointment beforehand; how was I supposed to know?”

Red Hair ignored her explanation and asked directly, “Where’s the alien? Where did he go? I can’t even get through on the Silver Link; I need to fight him.”

Ziye was silent for a beat. “The alien is gone.”

He took the Silver Link with him. How could she possibly connect?

Red Hair immediately sensed something amiss. “Gone? Dead or just left?”

The question was too blunt, too sharp, like a sword piercing her heart. She felt her whole being tremble. “Just assume he’s dead.”

Red Hair picked up on the change in her tone instantly. “He abandoned you and left Silver Rune by himself?”