Chapter 6: Crisis Strikes, Life on the Line

After squeezing onto the same bed the previous night, the two men had grown accustomed to close quarters. Now, crammed into the narrow cargo hold, there was little to no awkwardness between them.

Shao Ye, restless from the monotonous journey, filled the silence by rattling off every scrap of knowledge he had about the Dust District. He lectured on its dangers, the unspoken rules, and all the fine lines they’d have to walk if they wanted to stay alive.

Midway through their voyage, the ship stuttered to a halt.

Luzhanxing glanced up sharply. "These clunky, outdated freighters don’t exactly move fast, but by my count, we shouldn’t be anywhere near our destination yet."

Shao Ye’s face tightened. His thoughts jumped to only two possible scenarios. Neither was good.

One: a random Customs check by the Union forces.

Two: an ambush by interstellar pirates.

Both spelled disaster. If they were discovered, it wouldn’t be a matter of smooth-talking their way out. It’d be game over.

A soft, deliberate double knock interrupted his thoughts, tapping twice against the metal walls of the cargo hold.

The sound hit like a jolt of electricity. Their minds snapped back to the stern warnings from the crew: Stay silent. Stay still. Don’t even breathe too loud.

Outside, muffled voices carried through.

The captain’s syrupy tone was unmistakable. “Inspector, sir, I swear, we’re just hauling junk. Imperial City’s garbage. Dirty and worthless—nothing that’d interest someone of your stature.”

The inspector’s boots didn’t so much as pause. The clinking of his footsteps drew closer until he reached their hold. He tapped his stick against the lock, the sound sharp and commanding. “Open it. Let me see what’s inside.”

“Ah… uh, about that…” The captain’s voice cracked, panic bleeding through his usual bravado. “Inspector, we’ve been running this route for years! It’s all just scrap from the Imperial Star—broken gadgets, tossed-out trash. Surely, you don’t need to trouble yourself with this.”

The inspector cut him off, voice cold and unwavering. “Have you been living under a rock? The Union just issued a fresh warrant. Several fugitives are suspected to be heading for the Dust District. Every ship leaving Imperial Star is under mandatory inspection, no exceptions.”

The finality in his tone hit like a slap.

Shaoye’s heart rocketed into his throat, as if an invisible hand had clenched around it with crushing force.

"The Alliance issued a bounty?" The captain, puzzled, couldn’t suppress his curiosity. It was well-known that reporting the whereabouts of wanted individuals often came with a hefty reward. He blurted out, "Who’s the target? What crime did they commit?"

"An Omega," the inspector replied, his tone clipped and efficient. "Blew up O'Dell Academy a few days ago and then fled. If you spot him, you’re not just looking at an Alliance payout—there’s a private bounty from the Lu family worth close to a billion galactic credits."

"A—a billion galactic credits?" The captain’s jaw dropped so wide you’d think he could fit an entire egg inside. "What kind of Omega is worth that kind of money?"

"The intended match of the Lu family heir and the Supreme Commander of the Alliance military. You tell me—worth it or not?"

The sheer number had the captain’s mind spinning. One billion credits. Galactic currency. Enough to make even the most cautious man salivate. He could barely stop himself from plotting a direct course back to the Imperial Capital to hunt down the wanted Omega.

Such an obscene fortune—who wouldn’t be tempted?

Every word of their conversation reached Shao Ye and Lu Zhanxing with unrelenting clarity. They both understood all too well who the Omega in question was—Shao Ye.

Shao Ye’s pulse thundered, each beat hammering against his chest as if trying to escape through his throat. His fingers, resting by his side, balled into tight fists, nails biting so deep into his palms that blood threatened to bead. He didn’t even notice.

Lu Zhanxing, ever observant, sensed the tension radiating from his companion. Without a word, he reached out and clasped Shao Ye’s hand, grounding him in silent reassurance. Shao Ye latched onto it with desperation, as though it were the only lifeline keeping him afloat in a sea of panic. His grip was so fierce it left deep indentations on Lu Zhanxing’s skin, but the latter didn’t flinch.

The inspector, noticing the captain’s eagerness, narrowed his eyes with a flash of scrutiny—sharp and fleeting, like lightning slicing through a storm-clouded sky. He stared at the captain as if trying to pierce through the layers of his mind.

Then, apparently satisfied that greed was the sole driver of the captain’s enthusiasm, the inspector let out a soft sigh. He reached for the device on his hip, intending to pull up the official bounty notice.

Inside the cargo hold, Shao Ye’s dread surged like an icy tide, swallowing him whole. Each breath grew shallow, every inhale a struggle against the oppressive weight of fear.

But then, fate—cruel and unpredictable—offered a sliver of reprieve.

"Damn it," the inspector muttered, irritated. "My screen’s acting up. If you’re curious, check the Alliance’s website later."

Relief crashed over Shao Ye and Lu Zhanxing like a wave breaking against jagged cliffs. It wasn’t freedom, not entirely, but it was a moment to breathe, a few precious inches between them and the guillotine. The blade hadn’t vanished, but it had been pulled back—for now.

Even so, Shao Ye’s mind raced with worry. 'What now?' he thought bitterly. 'If the inspector insists on searching, or if that money-hungry fool of a captain digs up the bounty later, we’re done for.'

His heartbeat pounded louder than ever, a relentless drumbeat echoing in the stifling silence of the cargo hold, betraying every ounce of fear clawing at his insides.

Meanwhile, Lu Zhanxing’s mind worked swiftly, calculating contingencies, crafting responses. Outwardly, however, he remained unshaken, a monolith of calm. His hand tightened around Shao Ye’s, firm and reassuring, conveying silent strength. 'Stay with me,' it seemed to say. 'We’ll get through this.'

The inspector wasn’t finished. After a brief, tense pause, his expression hardened. Determination flashed in his eyes as he declared, "Open the cargo hold. I’m conducting a search."

Panic washed over the captain. Sweat poured from his forehead in fat, glistening beads, spilling down his face like broken strings of pearls. He wiped at them clumsily, as though erasing his fear, but it only made him look more frantic.

"Ah, um, Inspector, sir," he stammered, forcing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. "You see, I... I can’t find the keys right now. Really don’t know where they’ve gone!"

Desperation bled into his voice as he fumbled for excuses, each one weaker than the last. He knew full well it was a doomed effort, but he clung to the hope—however small—that a miracle might intervene.

The prosecutor sneered coldly, utterly unimpressed by the captain's flimsy attempt at playing it cool. With a sharp wave of his hand, his subordinates immediately produced a handheld external scanner and began sweeping the cargo hold with ruthless precision.

Shao Ye’s heart slammed against his ribcage, his breaths coming fast and shallow, each one laced with escalating panic. Beside him, Lu Zhanxing clenched his fists tightly, the tendons in his arms taut as steel cables. Subtly, he twisted his wrist, activating the interface on his smartwatch, quickly typing out a string of encrypted digits and sending them off into the void.

Within moments, the scanner let out a piercing alarm, cutting through the tense air like a knife. The screen flashed a damning revelation—there was something alive inside the cargo hold.

The prosecutor’s face darkened instantly. “Force it open!” he barked, his voice like a gunshot.

The sound of metal tearing apart echoed through the hold as the doors were ripped open, and in that instant, Shao Ye and Lu Zhanxing felt their stomachs drop into a bottomless abyss. Death’s shadow loomed large and merciless, the cold steel blade of fate hovering just above their necks.

Inside, the inspectors found live cargo—panicked wild oxen snorting in distress, and small, trembling dogs huddled together in the corners, their thin frames shaking with fear. The pungent stench of waste and uncleaned animals was overwhelming, filling the compartment with a suffocating reek that made the prosecutor grimace. He yanked out a handkerchief to cover his nose and, shining his flashlight over the scene, feigned a thorough inspection.

Satisfied—or at least pretending to be—he turned to leave. But then, from one of the smaller boxes tucked into the shadows, a voice rang out—a human voice, trembling with tension and fear.

The sound was unmistakable, cutting through the stillness like shattered glass. The captain, visibly rattled, nearly collapsed on the spot and had to be steadied by his crew.

The prosecutor’s face twisted into an expression of pure fury. “Open every single box!” he thundered. His men surged forward, predatory and methodical, honing in on the crate where Shao Ye and Lu Zhanxing hid. Without hesitation, they dragged it forward, tools already in hand to force it open.

Shao Ye squeezed his eyes shut, his thoughts spiraling into chaos. Scenes of capture, interrogation, and certain doom flooded his mind. 'Is this it? Is this where it all ends?' His sister’s face appeared in his thoughts, the weight of her hope and reliance crushing him. 'I can’t be caught. I can’t leave her alone. And Lu… I’ve already dragged him into this mess.'

A storm of guilt, fear, and despair churned in his chest, suffocating him. Beside him, Lu Zhanxing’s knuckles turned bone-white as he gripped his fists tighter, bracing himself for the inevitable. When Shao Ye finally broke the suffocating silence, his voice was a whisper soaked in resignation. “Lu-gr, I’m sorry…”

The words carried a bitter finality, like frost creeping over a dying field. But just as the inspectors moved to crack open the crate, the prosecutor’s comms device blared to life with an urgent, shrill tone.

Annoyed, he snatched it up, his expression quickly shifting from irritation to stunned disbelief as he listened to the voice on the other end. A second later, he barked out new orders, his tone edged with urgency. “Stop everything! Everyone, stand down and withdraw immediately!”

Even the captain, still unsteady on his feet, couldn’t keep his curiosity in check. “What’s going on?” he stammered to one of his crew.

“Alliance military priority order,” the prosecutor announced, his voice stiff with suppressed frustration. “No further inspections on this vessel. Full clearance granted. It’s classified—don’t ask questions.”

The crew exchanged looks of baffled relief, the weight of their near-catastrophe replaced by tentative gratitude. Shao Ye, too, felt the icy grip of fear finally loosen its hold on his chest. Though he had no idea what force had intervened on their behalf, he couldn’t help but exhale deeply, the relief almost as overwhelming as the fear had been moments before.

When the inspectors finally cleared out, Shao Ye let his tense body collapse into a heap, adrenaline still coursing through him like fire. “Lu-ge, I thought we were done for,” he admitted, his voice raw.

Lu Zhanxing nodded silently, his response oddly subdued. Though Shao Ye couldn’t see his face in the dim, suffocating darkness of the crate, the tone of Brother Lu’s quiet grunt carried an unsettling weight. Something wasn’t right, but Shao Ye couldn’t put his finger on it.

The miracle escape should have been a moment of relief, but unease lingered like a shadow over Shao Ye’s thoughts. Even as they fled immediate danger, the storm of uncertainty refused to dissipate.

What had saved them?

And why?

The decrepit cargo ship, barely scraping through its operations, couldn’t even establish a connection to the alliance's official network. But judging by the captain's sharp tone, it was clear he had his sights set on Shao Ye’s bounty—a prize hefty enough to be a thorn in anyone’s side for quite some time.