Discussing The Correct Posture To Enjoy Dog Food

Chapter 173 - Pomegranate Flavored Sentinel Gong (14)

Translated by Hua Li ^_~

“Goodbye.”

Walker cast one last, reluctant glance at Gou Liang lying motionless on the ground, then, without hesitation, pulled out the silenced laser gun he’d hidden beneath the lab table. He took aim and pulled the trigger—

The blinding beam sliced through the air. Wherever it passed, the reinforced flooring of the lab melted away, exposing the rocky sublayer beneath.

If even bulletproof materials couldn’t withstand it, how could flesh and blood?

The lab’s fire alarm blared, triggering a base-wide alert and drawing the attention of the patrolling sentinels. Even as the shouts of the guards echoed closer, Walker didn’t flinch. He stepped forward cautiously to confirm—nothing remained at the point of impact, not even ash. Only then did he breathe out and conclude his mission was complete.

Hands trembling, he transmitted the success report.

Success!

Across the battlefield, Jack Litt of the Free Federation was elated when he received the message.

He gave a curt nod to the Ryan and Palmer commanders, his voice sharp with triumph. “Deploy the troops immediately!”

A fleeting opportunity—miss it, and it’s gone forever!

The Xiang family forces would surely be thrown into chaos after the ‘accidental death’ of their little guide and Xiang Muchuan’s collapse. Now was the time to strike—he would crush them and make the Empire pay a hundredfold for his humiliation!

—The Federation warships surged forward, slicing through the void toward the Imperial fleet.

Back in the lab, Walker slumped to the floor, dropping the laser gun with a long exhale.

With the shrill alarm screaming in his ears and the sound of boots pounding closer, he lowered his gaze and murmured a solemn prayer: “Glory to the Federation. Glory to freedom.”

Then, drawing the suicide capsule he’d prepared, he opened his mouth to swallow it—only for a flash of pink to streak past. The vial vanished.

A cold gun barrel pressed against his temple.

“Don’t move,” came a low warning.

That voice—?!

Walker turned his head, disbelieving. When he saw Gou Liang standing there, very much alive, his eyes went wide with shock. Impossible—he should have been obliterated!

Realizing things had gone terribly wrong, Walker tried to bring the poison back up, but Gou Liang was faster. He swung the gun butt down hard against Walker’s temple. A ringing hum filled Walker’s skull, the world spun, and he nearly toppled over.

Gou Liang snatched the disruptor from his hand, planted a foot on his face, and tapped his head with the muzzle. “Behave yourself,” he warned coldly.

At that moment, Xiang Muchuan burst through the doorway.

“Xiao Keng’er!”

Barely a minute had passed since the alarm went off; the base’s sentinels hadn’t even arrived yet, but Xiang Muchuan—who’d been in the central command hall—had already forced his way there.

“Are you alright? Were you hurt?!”

His face was slick with sweat, his breath ragged. Even for an ultra-S-class sentinel, the speed he’d just used had pushed his body to its limit.

He didn’t notice. All he cared about was sweeping Gou Liang into his arms, frantically touching his face and hair, searching for injuries.

Gou Liang had already restored their mental link when he hid himself inside the life-space, reassuring him he was safe—but even seeing Gou Liang before him, Xiang Muchuan’s whole body stayed wound tight, unable to relax.

“I—I’m fine, r-really,” Gou Liang said quickly to calm him.

The moment he’d fallen, he’d realized his mistake.

He had actually intended to play along with Walker’s assassination attempt, using it as a pretext to help the Xiang family purge its internal spies. As for his own safety—he hadn’t been worried. With his life-space ready, even without it, Walker could never have truly harmed him.

But he hadn’t expected Walker to have a guide-disruptor on him.

When the silver wolf vanished from his side, Gou Liang knew things had gone wrong—and sure enough, his overly-sensitive big sentinel had sensed it instantly.

“Mu-Mu Chuan, I’m not h-hurt.”

Xiang Muchuan didn’t believe him until he’d checked every inch and confirmed not a single scratch. Only then did he ease up a little.

The silver wolf, still shaken, whined and tugged at Gou Liang’s sleeve, miserable for having failed to protect him.

Gou Liang patted its head gently in comfort, while Xiang Muchuan moved to shield him, glaring at Walker, ready to finish him.

But even half-conscious, Walker’s loyalty to the Litt family was staggering—he was already summoning his spirit fox to destroy his terminal and alert Jack Litt of the failed assassination.

Gou Liang stopped Xiang Muchuan and sprayed a dose of sedative. Walker’s eyes rolled back, and he collapsed, unconscious.

“Guide serum?”

Seeing Walker’s fox spirit fade away, Xiang Muchuan instantly understood—that was what Walker had used on Gou Liang earlier—and his brows knitted tight.

Gou Liang was just about to nod when the base sirens blared again—this time, a first-level alarm.

Enemy attack!

Moments later, Marshal Xiang’s voice came through the comm: “Muchuan! You and Yuan Wang alright?”

“We’re fine. Jack Litt planted a spy to assassinate Yuan Wang. He must think the plan succeeded and is moving now.” Xiang Muchuan’s tone was icy-steady. “Dad, you take the main defense. I’ll lead the strike to cut off their rear.”

“Good. I’ll wait for your signal—we’ll trap them between us and wipe them out. Daring to target my son and daughter-in-law? I swear I won’t rest till that bastard’s dead!”

Marshal Xiang immediately deployed his troops, deliberately feigning outrage and confusion to mislead the enemy.

Moments later, Yao Zicong and the others arrived.

Xiang Muchuan’s speed earlier had been so inhuman they couldn’t keep up; by the time they started chasing, he was already gone. The quick-thinking Li Weike finally remembered to grab a hovercar and push it past its limit to catch up.

“Young Master Yuan, are you alright?”

Everyone was tense.

Though Gou Liang stood unharmed beside Xiang Muchuan, the lab’s scorched, half-melted floor and walls spoke volumes of how close it had been. The others couldn’t help but feel a cold chill in their hearts.

“I’m fine,” Gou Liang said.

Only then did they collectively exhale in relief.

“Young Marshal, the Grand Marshal has already engaged the enemy,” Barton reported, fuming. “Those damned Federation scum moved too fast—this has got to be their doing!”

“Idiot. That much is obvious.”

Yao Zicong’s face was dark.

Walker wasn’t some nobody. While he hadn’t reached the Xiang Legion’s core, he was already second-in-command at the food supplement plant—and he’d had full access to the complete formula. The Xiang family had trusted him implicitly. Gou Liang had met him countless times, often one-on-one. The man had endless chances to strike, and Gou Liang had no reason to guard against him… and yet he’d turned out to be a spy for the Free Federation. Yao Zicong hadn’t spotted it—that was his failure.

Thankfully, Gou Liang wasn’t an ordinary man. Otherwise, it would’ve been too late for regrets.

The thought alone made Yao Zicong’s blood run cold, but now wasn’t the time for guilt. “Young Marshal, how are we going to hit back at that bastard?”

Xiang Muchuan was watching Ai Qi conduct a medical scan on Gou Liang. When she finally confirmed there were no injuries, he said evenly, “Zicong, you stay here. Detain everyone who’s had contact with Walker, and anyone who’s shown suspicious behavior recently—interrogate them all. Also, notify every unit: guard against the Federation taking advantage of the chaos. The entire army goes on standby for my orders. Weike—gather a hundred thousand troops. I want them assembled at Starport Five in three minutes.”

“Yes, Young Marshal!”

Li Weike and the others snapped to attention and moved out.

Just as Xiang Muchuan predicted, news of his guide’s “death” spread through the Federation forces like a virus, with Jack Litt fanning the flames himself.

Within minutes, the major Federal legions were on the move, turning their guns toward the Xiang family’s frontier territories. The first to respond were, of course, the Ryan and Palmer Legions—both of whom had known about Jack’s assassination plot for hours.

Now that Xiang Muchuan’s fate was uncertain and Marshal Xiang was trapped in the Nelson sector, what better time to carve up the Xiang domain?

Still, their initial strikes were cautious, probing rather than all-out assaults.

The commanders of the Ryan and Palmer Legions had originally worried that Xiang’s troops might unite in fury, that their rage would forge an invincible army—but Jack Litt had timed things perfectly. The Xiang Legion hadn’t even recovered from the shock of their Young Marshal’s “accident” when they were hit from all sides. Their formations faltered, caught off guard.

With morale shaken, defeat was inevitable.

The Federation legions quickly exploited the openings, breaking through Xiang defenses and forcing them to retreat again and again.

The situation looked bright for the Federation. Litt, Ryan, and Palmer threw everything they had into the offensive, relentlessly pressing the advantage.

They weren’t blinded by the brief success—they knew such a chance might never come again. Even if they couldn’t kill Marshal Xiang outright, they would pin him down in Nelson, buying time for the outer war to be won. The fiercer the attack, the better.

But the ambitious Federation had no idea that while they hunted their prey, death itself had already leveled its sights on them.

“Report, Young Marshal—Squad One has fully locked onto its targets. Awaiting orders.”

“Report, Young Marshal—Squad Two’s coordinates confirmed and locked. Awaiting orders.”

“Report, Young Marshal—Squad Three…”

Ten elite sentinel units, led by Li Weike, Barton, Ai Qi, and others, had already slipped unseen into the Federation’s rear, left, and right flanks—awaiting Xiang Muchuan’s command.

“Attack!”

The explosions that followed lit up the void.

“What—what’s happening?!”

The violent tremors from the energy blasts rocked the warship. Jack Litt’s heart dropped. The dread rising in him was the same primal fear he’d felt back when the Tut base was obliterated—an instinctive, wordless terror.

“G-General!”

The monitoring officer was shaking all over, unable to even form words. He could only point at the tactical display.

Jack shoved him aside and looked—only for his eyes to widen in disbelief. On the star map, the colored icons of the Federation’s ships—blue for Litt, white for Ryan, gold for Palmer—were going up in one explosion after another. The chain of detonations had already spread across the map, creeping toward his central command fleet like wildfire.

“General! The Imperial army is counterattacking!!”

Another blow fell.

A trap.

Jack Litt realized it instantly. He opened his mouth to order a retreat—but before the words left his lips, his adjutant shouted in panic, “General! The Ryan Legion’s retreating—Palmer’s pulling out too!”

Jack’s face turned ashen.

He’d thought that by spreading news of Xiang Muchuan’s “death,” he could rally Ryan and Palmer to strike the Xiang territories, forcing the Xiang Legion to withdraw from Nelson. Then, with three legions against one, he could bleed them dry before Marshal Xiang escaped.

But now his cleverness had turned on him—it had all played right into the Xiang family’s hands!

Clenching his fists, Jack barked, forcing his voice steady, “Move! Order all troops to retreat toward the Nelson-004 wormhole—hurry!!”

But the web Xiang Muchuan had woven wasn’t one the Federation could slip from so easily.

“Ninth Squad, deploy jammers. Tenth Squad, monitor energy reserves. All other units, continue firing on your assigned coordinates.”

“Yes, Young Marshal!”

Standing behind Xiang Muchuan, Gou Liang watched him effortlessly infiltrate the Federation fleet’s navigation systems, forcing their ships to follow the false coordinates straight into the ambush zones. His heart surged with pride—he hugged the silver wolf tightly.

When it came to cyberwarfare, no one in the galaxy could outshine his big target!

Meanwhile, the retreating Federation fleets were completely unaware. Not until ship after ship, battleship after battleship, hurtled like moths into flame did they realize their navigation was compromised.

“General, what do we do?!”

The soldiers’ faces were pale with terror.

They’d already cut their engines and were frantically trying to reboot navigation, but their tech crews were no match for Xiang Muchuan’s interference. They couldn’t regain control. Their scanners, however, still worked—and on those displays, they could see the Xiang Legion’s artillery closing in, tightening its net around them.

The feeling of waiting to die was far more terrifying than death itself.

As explosions rippled one after another through the void, several Federation starships finally broke. Their commanding officers lost all composure, and before the Xiang Legion’s sweeping artillery even reached them, the ships were already scattering like headless flies.

In their panic to flee the bombardment, they rammed into their own allies.

Each collision birthed another blinding fireball in space.

Jack Litt’s face turned ashen as he roared, “Stop them! Make them stop and follow command!”

But shouting orders now was meaningless—the chaos had already swallowed his army whole.

“General, what do we do?”

On the flagship, even the veteran officers were pale. The fiery red arcs of Xiang Muchuan’s fleet were closing in fast.

Jack ground out, “Full retreat—straight line!”

The adjutant blanched. “But, General—”

Charging forward in a straight line meant entering the Imperial fire zone. Worse, with navigation systems down, they could slam into their own ships. It was suicide.

“No buts.”

Jack cut him off sharply, inhaled, then said coldly, “Shut down all combat systems. Divert power to the S-class defense shield. We’re leaving—maximum speed!”

He then ordered the escape pods prepared. Once they cleared the kill zone, everyone would abandon ship.

But Xiang Muchuan had anticipated every step.

The moment Litt’s flagship ceased returning fire, Xiang ordered all cannons to focus on the tail engines. The ship shuddered violently under the concentrated barrage—so violently they couldn’t even access the escape pods.

“Report, Young Marshal! Jack Litt’s flagship has exited Seventh Squad’s attack range!”

Barton, who commanded the Seventh, had hit them first—but that beast of a warship was built to endure. Even with his full bombardment, it still hadn’t gone down.

“Third Squad, open fire. First Squad, be ready.”

“Yes, sir!”

On the tactical display, Xiang Muchuan watched the enemy flagship limping away, every scrap of data feeding into his console: engine strain, fuel depletion, hull integrity. Nothing escaped his control.

After a brutal flight, Litt’s flagship finally broke free of the kill zone.

But there was no cheering on board.

In the last barrage, their tail section had been annihilated—propulsion crippled, supply bays gone, and every last escape pod vented into space. The ship could still move, barely, but it was a dead man walking.

“G-General, what do we do now?”

The crew looked as if they were attending their own funeral. Jack Litt’s expression was carved from stone.

He’d insisted on a single-direction escape path. Without navigation, drifting blind in open space was as good as death—but he’d rather take his chances with the cosmic storms than die by the Empire’s guns.

“General, they’re gaining on us!”

“General, our energy reserves can’t keep up!”

“General—”

The bad news came like machine-gun fire. Then the comms officer stammered, “G-General, incoming transmission… from the Empire.”

The room went dead silent.

Jack’s voice was low, hard. “Put it through.”

The holographic screen flickered—and Xiang Muchuan appeared.

Even though Jack had already suspected Walker’s mission had failed, seeing Xiang alive sent a hot surge of rage up his throat. His face twisted.

Xiang Muchuan didn’t bother with greetings. He raised one hand—and clapped.

Once, twice, three times.

Then he smiled. “General Litt, that was quite the performance—this little game of life and death. I do hope you enjoy the encore.”

“You—Xiang Muchuan, you—”

But Xiang didn’t care for his dying speech. The screen flashed, and a ten-second countdown replaced his image.

10… 9… 8…

“G-General…”

What now? The question died in the air. No one had an answer.

Jack ordered, “Increase speed!”

But no matter how fast they fled, they couldn’t outrun time itself.

3—2—1.

A deafening boom tore through the flagship.

Before the smoke cleared, another ten-second countdown appeared.

Xiang Muchuan wasn’t just killing them—he was dissecting them, slice by slice, forcing them to feel every second of their terror.

Jack Litt clung to the railing, teeth clenched. Two strikes already and their energy systems were failing—they couldn’t survive many more.

A wild glint flickered in his eyes. “Lock onto Xiang Muchuan’s coordinates. Shut down all systems—combat, defense, all of it. Full acceleration—ram his ship!”

“General, the defense field too—?”

The realization hit them all at once. Jack meant to trigger self-destruct—to take Xiang down with him.

“General, please reconsider!”

But Jack Litt straightened his back. There was no hesitation left in him. They were already dead men; better to die with purpose.

He drew in a breath, saluted sharply, and declared, “For the Federation, to the death!”

The bridge echoed back: “To the death for the Federation—long live freedom!”

None of them noticed that while they shouted, Jack quietly crushed a tiny communicator hidden in his palm.

The flagship’s engines roared into full-energy mode, its speed doubling, tripling. In the blink of an eye, it lunged toward the coordinates of “Xiang Muchuan’s” ship.

Behind the Imperial lines, Gou Liang’s eyes tracked the data feed.

He saw the Litt flagship veer violently—straight toward the Ryan and Palmer fleets that had only just escaped the battle zone.

“Jack, you madman! Stop!”

“Quick—patch through! Tell him to stand down!”

But it was far too late. The Litt flagship was moving faster than they could react. Ryan and Palmer didn’t even have time to steer clear.

Three massive warships collided—

BOOM.

Tbh, I feel pity for Jack. If he was on the side of the Empire, he would have accomplished many things. 😩