Arriving at the residence of a high-ranking ASEAN official was, in many ways, more nerve-wracking than facing down a Madakaros commander.
The commander, at least, was predictable. He wanted to kill you. Su Quyen's father, Director Tran, was an unknown variable, and Lin Ming suspected he had meticulously researched at least seventeen ways to make him feel inadequate before the soup course even arrived.
The apartment was a penthouse suite overlooking the city, with floor-to-ceiling windows and furniture that probably cost more than his entire family's net worth.
A polite but imposing bodyguard led him into a dining room where Director Tran and Su Quyen were waiting.
Director Tran was a man in his fifties with a sharp suit, sharper eyes, and an aura of authority that could curdle milk.
He didn't have any cultivation, but he wielded power like a weapon. He stood up and offered a handshake.
His grip was firm, a classic power-move designed to assert dominance.
Lin Ming, whose Foundation Establishment body could crush steel, returned the handshake with the perfectly calibrated pressure of a polite young man, completely neutralizing the attempt. Advantage: Zenith.
"Director Tran. Thank you for having me," Lin Ming said with a calm smile.
"Lin Ming," the director replied, his gaze analytical. "Please, sit. My daughter speaks very highly of you. Your file, on the other hand, reads like a series of controlled disasters that somehow end in victory."
Su Quyen shot her father a glare. "Dad!"
"I am merely stating the facts, my dear," Director Tran said smoothly, taking his seat. "His methods are... creative. Like using a trash can lid as a ballistic shield. Or inciting a city-wide drone riot to... win a school test. Very unorthodox."
Lin Ming just kept smiling. "In unconventional times, sir, creativity is a vital strategic asset."
A servant brought out the first course. The dinner was exquisite. The conversation was a verbal chess match. For every question Director Tran asked about his 'background' (a polite way of saying 'your poor family'), Lin Ming would expertly pivot the conversation to Su Quyen's brilliant research.
"I understand your family is from the outer districts," Tran probed.
"Yes, sir. It provides a unique perspective. But speaking of perspectives, Su Quyen's theory about Madakaros cultivation impurities is revolutionary. It reframes their entire invasion strategy not as a show of force, but of desperation. Has Central Command considered leveraging that?"
Director Tran paused, a forkful of food halfway to his mouth. He was impressed, despite himself.
Lin Ming wasn't just deflecting; he was showcasing Su Quyen's value, subtly reminding her father that his daughter was more than just a brilliant student—she was a national asset. And Lin Ming was the one who recognized it.
The verbal sparring continued. Director Tran tried to intimidate him with politics; Lin Ming parried with tactical insights.
Tran brought up his lack of formal military lineage; Lin Ming countered with his recent, highly successful (and highly classified) mission results.
Finally, Director Tran leaned back, a flicker of something new in his eyes. It might have been respect. "You are not what I expected, young man. You are... difficult to categorize."
"I get that a lot, sir," Lin Ming replied.
"You have exceptional abilities," Tran stated. "And you have my daughter's attention. This makes you both a great asset and a great risk. I trust you understand my position."
"I do, sir," Lin Ming said, his expression turning serious. "And you have my word. I would never allow any harm to come to Su Quyen. I will be her shield, just as she is our alliance's sharpest mind."
The sincerity in his voice was undeniable. It was a warrior's oath, spoken not to a director, but to a father.
Su Quyen, who had been watching the entire exchange with a mixture of anxiety and pride, felt her heart skip a beat.
Director Tran was silent for a long moment. Then, he gave a slow, deliberate nod. "See that you do. Now," he said, his tone shifting slightly, becoming less confrontational, "about your proposal to 'borrow' a decommissioned long-range shuttle for a 'reconnaissance mission'... I assume that falls under your definition of creativity?"
Lin Ming's calm expression didn't change, but his internal System almost blue-screened.
[SYSTEM ALERT: How does he know about that?! Project White Rabbit is a Blacklight-sealed file! Minerva, you have a leak!]
Before he could even think of a response, Minerva's 'untraceable' stealth comms unit, the one she had given him just hours ago, vibrated in his ear.
Minerva (private comms): Correction. I do not have a leak. The Director is the leak. He is one of only three people with clearance to oversee Blacklight's 'forgotten' assets. This isn't an interrogation, Zenith. This is a job interview.
Lin Ming's mind recalibrated instantly. The dinner wasn't a test to see if he was worthy of Su Quyen. It was a test to see if he was crazy and capable enough to lead an impossible mission. He had been playing checkers while Director Tran was playing 5D chess across a galactic map.
A slow grin spread across Lin Ming's face. "The risk of waiting for Lord Maka-Jed to make his next move is too great, sir," he said, shifting seamlessly from prospective son-in-law to mission commander. "A surgical strike on their command outpost, even if it's just to gather intelligence, could disrupt their entire timetable for the 'Great Offering.' The 'White Rabbit' shuttle is our only viable option for getting there undetected."
Director Tran steepled his fingers, a mirror of Lin Ming's grin on his own face. "The project was mothballed due to budget cuts and 'unacceptable risks.' Its engine core is experimental and has a tendency to... fold space-time in unpredictable ways."
"Unpredictable is my speciality, sir," Lin Ming countered smoothly.
"Indeed," Tran said. He looked at Su Quyen, then back at Lin Ming. "My daughter believes in you. The city believes in you. And Blacklight, despite their reservations about your methods, believes in your results." He took a sip of his wine. "You have my provisional approval. Minerva will forward you the relevant files. But be warned, Lin Ming. If you take my daughter's heart with you on this insane mission and fail to bring it back in one piece, there is no corner of the solar system where you will be able to hide from me."
The threat was real, fatherly, and absolutely terrifying.
[Battle Will +1000!]
[Reason: Successfully survived dinner with a potential father-in-law whose threatening aura rivals that of a Nascent Soul cultivator. This is a new record.]
The dinner concluded. As Lin Ming was leaving, Su Quyen walked him to the door.
"You handled that well," she said, a proud smile on her face. "He's not usually that... reasonable."
"He was just testing my shields," Lin Ming said with a wink.
"Don't get cocky," she laughed. "And, Lin Ming... about what you said. Being my shield... thank you."
Impulsively, she leaned in and gave him a quick, soft kiss on the cheek. Her face immediately turned the color of a ripe tomato, and she retreated back inside without another word, shutting the door.
Lin Ming stood there for a moment, a hand on his cheek, feeling the lingering warmth. Then a wide, goofy grin spread across his face.
Surviving the dinner had definitely been worth it. He had a mission, he had a ship, and he had just received a significant morale boost. Mars, he decided, wasn't ready for what was coming.