Reborn with the memories of a future sovereign, Vance knew better than anyone that the "problems" he had just listed were far from insurmountable. In fact, once he took command of the Tomahawk, the solutions were already integrated into the ship's very hull.
The Tomahawk possessed several shipborne modules whose effects were nothing short of legendary—relics that would make high-tier lords of the Core Worlds foam at the mouth with envy.
But he couldn't show even a flicker of realization.
One must not be fooled by Yuan Shu's current "benevolent mentor" act. To survive the Jin Clan's relentless pursuit for decades, constantly bleeding them and causing chaos while remaining at large, required a soul forged from cold iron and malice. This was no kindly grandfather giving away a lucky break.
In his previous life, even with the help of his Golden Finger, Vance had only lasted a little over a decade under the Jin Clan's shadow. Yuan Shu had nearly quadrupled that record through sheer ruthlessness.
Vance was now fully committed to his role-play: the "promising youth from a backwater colony." Every word, every hesitation, and every flicker of doubt had to align perfectly with his "persona." If Yuan Shu caught even a hint of an anomaly...
Vance knew a secret that Yuan Shu had omitted: the military stimulants of the Levistane civilization didn't last for a mere hour. Their duration was a full twenty-four hours.
Yuan Shu wasn't as desperate for time as he claimed. If Vance proved to be an unsuitable or suspicious candidate, the commander had plenty of time to find a replacement among the thousands of miners crawling through the belt.
Having roamed the galaxy for seventy years, Yuan Shu was no naive aristocrat. He contemplated Vance's rejection for a moment, and a look of realization dawned on his battered face.
"I spoke without thinking," Yuan Shu sighed, his voice tinged with a weary melancholy. "I forgot that you and I, Vance... we have lived in entirely different worlds."
He looked at the viewscreen, his gaze distant. "I took command of the Tomahawk at thirty. I have drifted through the stars for over seventy years. I have long since forgotten how 'planetary residents' think."
Planetary residents. A neutral term used by the space-faring elite for those destined to live and die under a single sun, never breaking the shackles of gravity. To them, such people were like frogs at the bottom of a well, seeing only a tiny circle of the sky.
"Vance, I'll take the liberty of calling you 'little brother,' as I am much your senior," Yuan Shu said, struggling against the electromagnetic restraints of his chair. With a sickening sound of grinding bone, he sat upright. "I understand you have your own plans, and you clearly know more than the average colonist. But your perspective is still limited by the layer of dust on this planet."
He stared at Vance, his single eye burning with a dark intensity. "The Jin Clan has hunted me for years. My bounty has been raised time and time again, yet they could never touch me. It took a traitor—a crew member they broke with threats against his family—to finally trap me. But I didn't survive this long on luck, nor did I survive on the Tomahawk's basic firepower."
"I survived because of the Yuan family's heritage—something the Jin Clan covets above all else. These are the treasures my ancestors paid for in blood in the deep reaches of the void: Additional Shipborne Modules."
"Additional modules?" Vance asked, his voice a perfect blend of surprise and confusion. "I thought Fireseed ships had standard configurations. What do you mean by 'additional'?"
Yuan Shu let out a dry, raspy chuckle, seemingly satisfied by Vance's "ignorance."
"It seems your knowledge is only skin-deep. Shipborne modules are divided into two categories: Standard and Additional. This is common knowledge in the higher tiers of society. Standard modules define a ship's floor—its basic viability. Additional modules? They define the ceiling. They grant a ship abilities that defy the laws of physics. The Tomahawk's central computer contains the encrypted archives regarding these. You can study them yourself... once you are Captain."
Vance nodded as if the light was finally dawning on him, but then he hesitated, shaking his head. "Captain Yuan, even with that, I'm still not confident. From what I've read, becoming a Captain requires fusing with the 'Shipborne Fireseed.' It's a baptism of the soul. Unless one has reached the [Advanced-Tier] of Body Tempering, the failure rate is astronomical. I'm just a miner; I don't even have the right to practice Body Tempering. I might just die during the fusion."
Yuan Shu shook his head slightly. "The failure rate you speak of applies only to the initial ignition of a Fireseed. A Transfer of Command is different. The Fireseed has already been tamed; it follows my will. It will seek its new host through the path I pave for it. There is no threshold for you to cross."
Vance nodded blankly, playing the part of the overwhelmed recipient. He had to ask these questions; the "persona" demanded it. He had to appear capable enough to handle the Jin Clan—so Yuan Shu wouldn't feel his legacy was wasted—but not so knowledgeable that it seemed he had been waiting for this exact moment.
"The specifics can wait," Yuan Shu said, his speech pattern accelerating with a touch of growing impatience. "Trust me, Vance. It will be a surprise."
"Very well," Vance said, yielding with a reluctant nod. "I will follow your lead, Captain. But if you have any other conditions or instructions, please... speak them now. I know there is no such thing as a free lunch in this galaxy."
Vance knew the "meat" of the deal was finally coming. Yuan Shu hadn't spent his dying breath explaining the ship's lore just for charity.
"Good. I like a man who understands the price of power," Yuan Shu's voice dropped an octave, turning cold. "Let us be 'villains' first and 'gentlemen' later."
On a silent command, the wheel-shaped medical drone that had been hovering over Yuan Shu drifted toward Vance. Its sensors glowed with a chilling crimson light.
From a hidden compartment in its mechanical chassis, a needle extended, filled with a shimmering, dark-green fluid that pulsed with a faint, sickly light.
"This," Yuan Shu whispered, "is the Yuan family's Secret Medicine. It is your first step toward the throne of the Tomahawk."