083. Dark Zone Stalker: Escape from Vanlenkov
A fireball meteor descended from the dome as Flanna piloted the ship in a steep dive. The overlapping anti-air fire followed closely, just skimming past the top of Modro Tower. Grabbing Nikita's shoulder, Li Aozi activated the time ripple, teleporting them directly onto the ship.
"—Oh shit!"
Nikita's feet had barely touched the corridor when the overload yanked him to the ground. Li Aozi casually grabbed him, creating a gravitational field that allowed him to float weightlessly, easing the strain.
"Head for the Aldu Stargate, straight to Firewolf Star; they won't be able to follow you."
"I mean, boss, this is really outside the service plan, isn't it?"
Flanna pulled the nose of the ship up sharply, aiming straight for the atmosphere as lasers and missiles intertwined behind her. She couldn't help but complain.
"I'll pay you extra."
"Thanks, boss."
Without further ado, Li Aozi instructed Nikita to release the hostages, then took him and teleported back outside. The high-end vessel Flanna piloted was far beyond what these mercenaries could chase, so there was no need to worry.
Nikita hadn't even gotten his bearings before Li Aozi yanked him back into the time ripple. In the blink of an eye, he found himself free-falling above the city.
"Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit!"
Nikita yelled in panic:
"You see where you're teleporting to!?"
"Calm down; you won't die from the fall."
Just as Li Aozi spoke, a fighter jet flew over their heads, thanks to Flanna attracting all the attention. The pilot didn't notice them at all.
Wrapped in a gravitational field, Li Aozi brought the shivering Nikita down safely from several thousand meters in the air, landing without so much as a speck of dust stirring. Nikita's legs nearly gave out when he hit solid ground, the strain from just exiting the weightless environment making it feel like his blood was being squeezed from his feet.
Luckily, he had once been a Zeta-tier warrior. Though poverty and age had weakened him, he was still tougher than the average person and managed not to collapse completely.
"Thanks for going through all that with me, Nikita."
Li Aozi patted the old soldier's shoulder and sent him a transfer of 3,000 Amjin.
Nikita had been about to curse him for the life-threatening stunts, but the transfer message made him swallow his words.
"I'll go look for Julian. Things won't be peaceful for a while, so take care."
Li Aozi said, then added after a moment's thought:
"Have you thought about leaving here? Fanlenkov is going to get very... 'lively' soon…"
"I'm staying."
Nikita chuckled bitterly:
"You've seen my daughter's condition. She's in no state to endure the strain of space travel. But thanks for the offer, Leoz."
This was just an excuse.
Li Aozi knew Nikita was deeply attached to his homeland and reluctant to leave. Elderly people all over the universe were like this—the older they got, the more they yearned to return to where they were born. Maybe it was some innate attachment to their roots.
Of course, the bigger truth was that Nikita couldn't afford the cost of living or medical care in a narrative-level civilization.
Three thousand Amjin wasn't much, but Nikita's eyes lit up with a glimmer of hope.
Although he knew Fanlenkov's fate couldn't be changed, Li Aozi had started to develop his own thoughts for some reason.
Maybe it was the unresolved feeling left by the "White Wolf" ending of "Remember It," which still weighed on him.
He wasn't the type to think, "If I could do it over, I'd do things differently"—that was unrealistic.
There were no second chances, no undo buttons. For Li Aozi, this wasn't a game; there was no restarting from the beginning.
Now, he was almost done with the mission, had received the main reward, and should have been ready to leave.
Standing there under the purple sky, his headless body stared into an unknown distance.
He had killed their leader and was about to smear his name and tarnish his image.
But if Kalmets didn't die, the country would only get worse.
Even in the best "angel" ending, he'd only be able to save three hundred thousand people.
Honestly, Li Aozi had no personal connection to these people; he didn't know anyone here.
But at that moment, a strong doubt arose in him.
[Should I leave?]
If he wanted to go, nothing could stop him. He was about to advance to Delta-tier; as a [Star Echoer] with two Sequence Omega energies and mastery of Blood Demon techniques, not even a Zeta-tier could take him down.
"Nikita, I have a question for you," Li Aozi suddenly said.
"Is there money involved?" Nikita eagerly held out his hand, rubbing his fingers together suggestively.
"Depends on your answer."
"As long as there's Amjin involved, I'll do anything."
Nikita said:
"What do you want to ask?"
"If—hypothetically," Li Aozi paused to choose his words, "if you had more power and foresight than others, and there was something you could do to make a situation slightly better, though you couldn't solve it completely—would you still try?"
"Uh, let me think—does it have anything to do with your family?"
"No. In fact, these people might even hate me."
"Are you doing it to achieve something? Like fame, status, or money?"
"Could end up costing me."
"Would you call yourself a conscientious or moral person?"
"Not really. My morals are pretty flexible."
"Then I'm curious why you'd even think of it."
"I'm not sure."
Li Aozi tapped his chest lightly and answered:
"But it makes me uncomfortable. Having the ability to change something and not doing it—makes me uncomfortable."
His head was nowhere to be seen, but a sudden, intense feeling surged within him.
[Hmm? Did I forget to take my Truth Serum today? No wonder things feel so strange.]
Li Aozi realized.
He'd been moving so fast, with the interstellar time difference, he'd forgotten to take his medication.
Nikita looked at Li Aozi, thinking for a moment before patting the headless man's shoulder:
"You seem a little lost. How about I take you somewhere?"
Li Aozi was about to retrieve his medication to feed it to his head in the warped space, but hesitated at Nikita's suggestion.
......
Half an hour later, Li Aozi and Nikita reached the top of a small hill. They had walked all the way, stepping on soft earth and grass, climbing up. The faint purple sky had darkened, and the eastern horizon was a mix of layered clouds, casting the sky in a deep gray that even dimmed the stars.
Li Aozi looked around:
"Looks like just an ordinary hill."
"It is just an ordinary hill."
Nikita walked to the edge of the cliff, sat down, and let the cold wind blow over him. He gestured for Li Aozi to sit with him, then pulled out a flask, took a sip, and gazed at the distant horizon.
The two of them sat in silence, letting the wind blow, neither speaking nor knowing what they were watching.
"Fanlenkov is a warrior race—or rather, forced to become one."
Nikita broke the silence:
"I was born in a military camp. My mother was a military chaplain. When I was young, I never saw my father. They said he was a great warrior, a hero, but I never understood how a man who ignored his wife and child could be a hero."
"Then, when I was six, his body came back wrapped in Fanlenkov's trident skull flag, along with two children from different races."
"Those kids were the orphans of his comrades who died on the front. In the toughest battles, he spent his own pay to support his comrades' children and brought them back home."
"When people asked him, 'You have your own kid. Why send so much money to raise someone else's children? You shouldn't waste money on those who aren't yours.', he'd always say:
"'It's not about whether I should; I can, so I do it.'"
"My father won many battles, but mostly as an invader and butcher. This time, he brought back something more precious than any medal—life."
Nikita lit a cigarette and instinctively offered one to Li Aozi, who waved it off:
"I quit a long time ago, and I can't smoke, anyway."
"Cigarettes and booze aren't good, but everyone needs something to rely on."
Nikita took a drag, blowing out a smoke ring, and continued:
"Like other Fanlenkov aliens, I trained to fight from a young age, learning weapon handling and tactical coordination. Because of my father's legacy, I was in the spotlight, so I trained harder than anyone."
"I was the first in my age group to complete near-orbit assaults, the first to get bio-mechanical limb implants, the first to become a superhuman, the first to command a fleet—I was lucky enough to catch the attention of the principal, who gave me his daughter's hand in marriage. I was blessed—we loved each other and soon had a child together."
Recalling the past, especially his wife and marriage, Nikita seemed to lose decades, turning back into a young, vigorous man.
"I didn't actually enjoy fighting, nor did I care about being the best. But it wasn't about wanting to; it was about whether I could—and my father's words pushed me forward."
"It wasn't that I wanted to be first; I could be first, so I went for it."
Li Aozi chuckled.
"You had a very unique father."
Nikita flicked the ash from his cigarette and continued:
"I had a good friend who begged me to give up my training spot because he really needed it to join the assault squad and earn triple the pay to cover his mother's surgery."
"He was crying, pleading, tugging at my heartstrings—so I turned him down."
"I knew the assault squad's missions were extremely dangerous, with high mortality rates. He didn't have the ability to make it to payday, and in the end, his mother would only get a death notice with condolence money."
"So, I lost my best friend."