Lan Grace could tell Mi Milo's mood without turning her head, and spoke to comfort him.
Mi Milo believed Lan Grace absolutely. If she could make carrion rats taste that good, who knew how delicious better ingredients would be after her hands worked their magic!
He sighed. Fine. He would endure the urge to retch and go on catching insects now—for the sake of future feasts.
As for the insects they were catching…
Worst case, he simply would not eat them once Lan Grace finished cooking.
Mi Milo never imagined that, after Lan Grace's insect banquet was ready, his current resistance would be tossed clean out the window!
With two bottles packed full of insects, Lan Grace and Mi Milo were about to head back the way they had come.
Suddenly, a rustle sounded from the wild grass ahead.
"Shh…" Lan Grace turned and made a gesture to Mi Milo. The two stopped at once, motionless and silent.
Mi Milo grew a little nervous.
He knew the soldiers stationed on Waste Star were not there purely to guard exiled criminals, but to clear and control the breeding and spread of the star beasts on Waste Star.
Aside from the function of dumping the various planets' rubbish, the other bit of value Waste Stars had to the Alliance was their star beasts.
Across the Alliance, there were hundreds of planets like Waste Star No. 101. Though Waste Star's star beasts were low‑level, they had value.
Even a fly is still meat.
Star beasts were dangerous. Even the fighting power of low‑level star beasts was quite a threat to weaklings like Lan Grace and Mi Milo.
Could the movement in the grass be from a star beast?
Mi Milo felt his heart twist tight.
Carrion rats were already dangerous enough to him—never mind star beasts.
Even if it was a first‑level star beast, he would not be a match for it.
Lan Grace's heart was not calm either, but she forced herself to be.
Complete silence fell. It seemed only the wind remained, stirring the wild grass. The rustling in that patch of grass disappeared.
In the wind—heavy with heat and Waste Star's unique, putrid stench—something else drifted their way.
Lan Grace sniffed. Her sharp sense of smell, teasing out the threads from the cocoon of the fetor in the air, caught a faint, blood‑sweet scent that slipped into her nose.
What a pure scent of blood!
It was a strange feeling. For the first time, Lan Grace felt that the smell of blood could be this alluring—so much so that, almost instantly, she walked towards it without being able to stop herself.
Behind her, Mi Milo did not even have time to grab the corner of her clothes to hold her back.
Lan Grace moved quickly. In just a few breaths she reached the place where the grass had rustled.
The blood‑scent grew stronger. She parted the dry, yellow grass with both hands, and saw a man in a silver combat suit lying motionless on the ground.
Ear‑length black hair fell in ragged layers over his eyes. Blood streaked his face; she could not see his features clearly.
Judging by the blood, he had taken a heavy blow to the head and had blacked out.
Following behind, Mi Milo came up and saw the man on the ground at a glance.
Eyes widening in shock, he blurted, "Dead?"
"He's still alive," Lan Grace said, walking over to squat at his side and carefully check his injuries.
As long as he wasn't dead, that was good.
Mi Milo let out a breath, recovered from his initial shock, and came to Lan Grace's side. As he observed, he said, "Judging by his clothes, he should be an Alliance mecha warrior."
"He probably isn't from Waste Star. For some reason, he accidentally strayed here."
"He has a personal brain terminal on his wrist. It shouldn't be long before his team‑mates locate him via the terminal and take him away."
As for exactly how long—that, Mi Milo could not judge.
In the time before they arrived, would the scent of his blood draw nearby star beasts and plunge him into mortal danger? That was even harder to say.
Mi Milo's words were largely in line with Lan Grace's judgement.
The blood on the wound on the man's head had already clotted. It looked like there would be no serious problem in the short term. Once his team‑mates found him, with the interstellar's advanced medical tech, this minor injury would be nothing.
She could only hope his team‑mates would find him soon. Otherwise, even if he did not end up in the maw of some low‑level star beast, he could starve to death.
At that thought, Lan Grace immediately fished a few nutrient solutions from her pocket. She fed one to the unconscious man and stuffed the rest into his hand.
She hoped these would sustain him until his companions arrived. Beyond that, there was nothing else she could do.
Mi Milo watched Lan Grace's series of actions calmly and could not help feeling relieved for the unconscious man.
Fortunately, he had met kind‑hearted Lan Grace—and fortunately, Lan Grace was the richest of the exiles on Waste Star.
Otherwise, even low‑grade nutrient solution was not something just anyone could give away.
Food was the most precious thing on Waste Star!
The man seemed to sense movement at his side. His long, thick lashes trembled like butterfly wings; he could wake any moment.
That let Lan Grace relax a little. It seemed the injured man was not in real danger.
Now that she was at ease, her curiosity returned—why was this man's blood so irresistibly attractive to her?
This pure blood seemed different from other people's.
In just that short time, Mi Milo made another discovery.
"The terminal he's wearing is the Alliance's latest development. The outside world hasn't even been told about it yet, and this model is a limited edition—only a hundred units across the Alliance—so his status in the Alliance Mecha Battle Corps must be high."
Lan Grace listened to Mi Milo speak fluently.
Lan Grace: "???"
How did her Mi Milo know so much?
In that moment, all of Lan Grace's attention shifted from the unconscious man to Mi Milo.
Just who was this little buddy she had randomly taken in?
"Someone's coming," Mi Milo said suddenly.
As soon as the words fell, he seized Lan Grace's wrist and drew her back into the wild grass.
The two retreated several hundred metres before a few small craft appeared in the sky and descended in the direction of the unconscious man.
Not long after, a few people disembarked and carried their unconscious comrade away.
Lan Grace could not tell if it was an illusion, but after those people left, Mi Milo seemed to breathe out the faintest sigh of relief?
Lan Grace stared at her little buddy the whole time, growing more and more puzzled.
Not only did Mi Milo know about limited‑edition terminals, he could even sense the search craft before they appeared. Such perception was far from ordinary!
She suddenly felt her previous understanding of Mi Milo had been wrong.
He was no soft, pitiful cutie. His true identity might shock her even more!