On Waste Star, with its heat, water didn't go cold quickly. If the cup had cooled completely, the room's owner had been gone for a while. On the table lay a scrap of white cloth with a few words in a youthful hand:
—Lan Grace, my brother came to take me home. Goodbye.
—Don't forget your gift. Keep it safe.
Gift…
She turned her head and noticed the silver necklace on the table. She didn't know what it was made of; the metal had a dull sheen. The pendant was a crescent moon set with a brilliant sapphire—expensive at a glance.
Lan Grace's attention stayed on the note, not the gift. Mi Milo had left? His brother had come?
Far from reassuring her, the message made her frown more deeply. She had only just acquired a chance to leave Waste Star. The very next day, Mi Milo "left" too? If it were so effortless for him—if he could go as soon as he wished—why had he spent months here? At the start, if she hadn't given him bread and faced this place's harshness with him, he might have died. If he really could go, he would have gone long ago.
She didn't believe it. So where had he gone? Had he slipped away alone to spare her the burden? Her heartbeat sped. Looking around at the room, it seemed he had left suddenly—suddenly enough he hadn't finished a cup of water, suddenly enough he hadn't tidied his bed. Maybe he had been taken away. By his "brother"?
Her unease grew. She tucked the necklace and the cloth note safely away and went to find Captain Kate. Whether Mi Milo had been taken or was hiding somewhere on the planet—if any ship had landed nearby, Kate's office should have a record.
They had some acquaintance now, and he didn't hesitate to help. He got the result quickly. "A ship did land near Sector Nine last night," he told her.
As for the exile being "taken away," further checks turned up something bizarre: among the exiles who had arrived with Lan Grace, there was no one named Mi Milo. The name was not on any list. Which meant he wasn't an exile at all. He had, for reasons unknown, appeared among the exiles by accident—and now, seemingly, had returned to wherever he was meant to be.
Lan Grace stared. "???"
Why did she suddenly feel like her little follower of three months wasn't even human? Someone who had been in front of her eyes every day—and now she was being told there was no such person.
She wasn't the only one taken aback. Kate was shocked too. In his jurisdiction, such a gap in control? Someone had blended into the exiles without notice? What were his people doing?
But the person was gone. Even if they investigated now, it might not mean much. Besides, his own term would soon be over, and he would be leaving Waste Star. He looked at Lan Grace again and changed the subject gently. "You should prepare. I've already entered your name for the slot. In a month, the entrance exam for the Alliance Second Military Academy will be held. You'll get a boost from the Waste Star support policy, but if your scores are too poor, you'll still get cut."
Lan Grace: "…"
So it wasn't a free pass. If she wanted to leave Waste Star for good, she still had to pass an exam. It dampened her mood. In her previous life, her grades had been decent; if she hadn't chosen culinary school, she could have gotten into a good university. But this was a different world with different tests.
She rifled through the original body's sparse memories for exam details and relaxed a little. The assessment wasn't a long‑accumulated academic test—it was focused elsewhere. With her current physical condition, passing should not be too hard, especially with the Waste Star bonus. She had a month. She would need to prepare seriously.
As for Mi Milo's disappearance—she had no way of finding his trail. One thing she was sure of: he wasn't ordinary. The noble air he couldn't hide and the pieces of knowledge he had let drop proved that. She believed nothing bad would happen to him and hoped he would be safe. She could only set his matter aside. Perhaps when she had achieved something of her own, she would be able to learn more. Perhaps they would meet again.
…
A month slipped by. In that time, aside from cooking for Captain Kate, she spent her hours sorting through the original host's memories and deepening her understanding of the world. She learned what she could about the Alliance Second Military Academy: the second‑ranked school among the billions of systems under the Alliance. The first‑ranked, the Alliance First Military Academy, was where the original body's older brother studied—in the mecha design department.
With the original stats—B‑level physique, B‑level mental power—getting into the Second Military Academy would have been a pipe dream. By a twist of fate, she had become an exile on Waste Star; after a loop or two of bad luck, she had ended up with a chance to sit the exam.
For Waste Star 101, the threshold for eligibility was under eighteen years old, physique and mental power both C‑level or higher. On paper, she already exceeded the mark by far. Even so, she didn't dare guarantee she would pass. Kate had said that while the number of Waste Stars across the Alliance ran into the millions, and each had a quota, most went unused. Even so, out of those millions, hundreds or thousands of young people drawn from Waste Stars sat the exam every year. Among them, the number who ultimately entered the Second Military Academy—even with bonus points—was sometimes not even one per year.
Ten years ago, the "lucky" candidate from Waste Star 101 had had a rare A‑level physique and B‑level mental power, and only then scraped past the admission line.
Compared with that candidate, Lan Grace still had a bit to go.