The NPC's face was turning redder and redder with anger, eyes glaring fiercely at Zero.
Zero, already losing interest, turned to leave, only to hear a strange teeth-grinding sound coming from the strategist's direction.
'Tsk tsk tsk, say less, just stand there like a decoration.'
Since he was the one who pissed the guy off, obviously he'd have to deal with it himself.
He sighed helplessly, endured the strategist's dagger-like glare, stepped back in front of the NPC, and said perfunctorily, "Back to your senses."
Seeing the other still unresponsive, he had no choice but to snap his fingers.
The NPC jolted violently, then glared back at him with bloodshot eyes.
The strategist and the others from the Astral Express Bureau smiled politely, greeting the people who came with the NPC. Soon both sides slipped into a well-practiced round of smoothing things over, trying to dissolve the tension between Zero and the NPC.
"Hahaha, really sorry, this kid of ours has been spoiled since childhood…"
"Hahaha, really sorry, our marshal is just young and hot-blooded."
Zero and the NPC glared at each other, big eyes against small eyes.
Zero, '…Why does this feel exactly like when a brat causes trouble and the parents of both sides keep apologizing to each other?'
The Immortal Boat people sneered in their hearts. 'A "kid"? What, several hundred years old kind of "kid," right?! This was the very first time their wise and mighty marshal had ever left the Immortal Boat!'
On the other side, people were forcing smiles. 'Young and hot-blooded, your ass! How could this old man blow up like a kid at the slightest thing? And why should their hundreds-of-years-old child be the one bullied here?!'
Both sides cursed each other shameless in their hearts, but still kept proper smiles on their faces. After a round of empty pleasantries, they said their goodbyes in tacit agreement.
The strategist, seeing Zero's indifferent expression, ground his teeth and squeezed out a sentence, "Say goodbye."
Zero, "…"
What, even farewells he had to personally deliver now?
But fine, he was the kind of boss who spoiled his subordinates.
So he changed his face instantly, put on a fake formulaic smile, and waved at the NPC, whose face was red with rage, nearly exploding, "Goodbye!"
To be precise, never see you again.
After all, with that kind of personality, barring accidents, this sort of person would never again appear before him, the Immortal Boat marshal, in this lifetime.
Once they set foot on the way back to Yaoqing, Zero didn't say a word. He gave his subordinates, who had just escaped death, seven days' leave, sending them off to eat and rest.
"You're already a marshal, why argue with people like that?"
When no one else was around, the strategist, bitter and exasperated, began scolding his superior.
"His mother is a major shareholder of both Interstellar Peace Corporation. What if they start spreading things? What will happen to your reputation then?"
"Didn't notice."
So what if he clashed with an NPC? Was he supposed to check people's identity, gender, and age before butting heads?
Besides, for the mother to be a major shareholder in Interstellar Peace Corporation, she probably had her ways of prolonging life. They called it a child, but who knew if it was actually a few hundred years old.
As for reputation, he couldn't care less.
Zero casually brushed it off, then asked, "That family only has this one child?"
The strategist shook his head.
"No, there are plenty of brothers and sisters."
Zero gave an "oh."
The strategist instantly felt uneasy. He knew Zero too well.
When the boss went quiet, it meant trouble was brewing.
Worried, he kept pressing his superior about what he meant.
Zero fixed his eyes on him, and suddenly said, "When that person becomes heir, they'll regret the words they said today."
The strategist didn't ask how his boss could interfere with a family's line of succession, nor did he question further.
The upper levels of the Immortal Boat had a tacit, unspoken rule, never try to guess the marshal's thoughts. The reason was simple, because it was meaningless.
You could never guess. Just execute orders, that was enough.
Having long been tormented by this, the strategist deeply agreed.
Don't speculate about Zero's thoughts, or misfortune would follow.
…Except, of course, when he suddenly wanted to visit widows and orphans, wreck someone's reputation, or dig through trash bins.
To the marshal, it seemed there was nothing he couldn't do, only things he didn't want to do.
After all, hadn't Zero dared to speak of killing a Aeon right in front of a Aeon? What else would this lunatic not dare to do?
Maybe it was because he was used to being PUA'd by his superior, but after hearing that, the strategist actually felt a strange sense of comfort.
Like a brat who had finally grown up, no longer tearing the roof off, but instead demolishing the whole house.
The strategist, "…"
Zero, 'You bastard! What did that guy ever do to you? Was it really worth holding such a grudge?'
Unfortunately, even if players could hear the strategist's inner complaints, they wouldn't care.
No matter who the other side was, if they weren't from the Immortal Boat, Zero wouldn't give a damn whether they lived or died.
Because players can do anything.
In the game world, no one and nothing could resist a player's will.
Players always acted purely on their own whims, fickle and unpredictable.
One moment they might love aggressive gameplay, the next they'd want to farm and retire in peace.
They'd casually make a move, disregarding an NPC's will, change the course of that person's life, push them into a position that never belonged to them.
Support their family until it became the strongest of all families, the biggest shareholder of the Interstellar Peace Company, with the most say in its decisions.
And then, let go, watch whether they could hold their ground, or plummet in a single fall, never to rise again.
By the time Zero finished propping up the NPC, he probably wouldn't have the patience or interest to stick around for the ending.
He let his thoughts wander, then tossed them aside.
The group returned smoothly to Yaoqing. Members of the Astral Express Bureau and his subordinates all went on paid leave. The strategist dragged Zero along to visit Lan's mother.
This time, without needing nagging, Zero restrained himself on his own.
After Lan's incident, the upper ranks of Yaoqing immediately locked down the news. Almost no one knew the truth now.
The strategist, always thorough, made up a story about Lan being transferred to Luofu, preparing an excuse before Lan's mother came to ask questions at the general's mansion.
But who would've thought, Lan never returned, and even Zero had no way to fix it. They could only keep patching the lie, saying Lan had gone to another Immortal Boat.
The strategist, keeping a calm face, went to see the woman who was cooking, and handed her the forged family letter.
The woman, who had never once mishandled social interactions, dropped everything the moment she saw the letter.
She didn't even bother with small talk. Right there in front of the two men, she washed her hands, awkwardly pulled out a towel to dry them, and with trembling hands tore open the envelope.
She stood in place, head lowered, reading and rereading the letter. Then she raised a hand, wiped away the tears at the corners of her eyes, and gave a proper smile,
"Sorry for losing composure. As long as he's safe, that's enough."
For a moment, the three of them said nothing. Then the woman broke the near-frozen air herself, turning to ask Zero, "Lan always loved the braised meat I make. Could you bring some to him for me?"
Being suddenly called out, Zero nodded frantically.
That nod earned him eight overstuffed bags.
The woman gave an embarrassed smile, nervously kneading the hem of her apron, "They're just some food, clothes, quilts and such. Honestly, I'm sure other Immortal Boats don't lack these things. Maybe it's better not to trouble you…"
As she spoke, she leaned forward, trying to take the bags back.
The strategist was about to stop her, but Zero stepped up first, each hand grabbing two bags.
Zero opened his mouth, racking his brains, and finally managed to squeeze out, "It's not the same. No matter what Lan buys for himself, it can't compare to things prepared by family."
The strategist followed his lead, trying to lift the remaining bags. But he was just a normal desk officer, he could barely manage two.
Zero stayed silent, then took over the remaining bags himself.
They said their goodbyes. The woman, very warm and hospitable, walked them all the way to the alley entrance.
Despite their repeated persuasion, she only reluctantly stopped following them further.
Once they were out of her sight, the strategist couldn't hold it anymore. He was the first to put his bags down.
Zero had to put down his six bags as well, then picked them up one by one, weighing them, and finally placed the two lightest in front of the strategist.
After the strategist rested a bit, the two continued lugging everything back to the general's mansion.
Ignoring protests, Zero opened the woman's parcels for Lan and urged the ashen-faced strategist, "Come on, pick out anything that won't keep. I have a way to preserve it."
The strategist, exhausted from hauling everything the whole way, suddenly remembered his superior's ability to retrieve things from afar. He snapped, "Why didn't you say so earlier?!"
Zero, "…Hehe."
The strategist roared, "Hehe what?!"
Zero put on an innocent face, "I don't know, it just slipped out. Maybe it was a catchphrase from a friend I had before."
Cursing under his breath, the strategist sorted everything into categories.
"I'll think of something," Zero said, sounding utterly relaxed. "Don't worry. They'll reunite. Who do you think I am?"
'I'm a player. Players can do anything.'
Zero opened the system interface, looked at the world-burning Divine Weapon that could only be unlocked through 'Intimidation,' capable of destroying planets, and couldn't help sighing.
He had to max out the stats. Looked like he still had to keep grinding.
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