Star Rank Hunter

Chapter 424: Guilty?

Since the Godfather had intervened in the matter, the previously mentioned adjustment to the Legion’s project team was likely his doing. That also explained how the vaccines had been manufactured so quickly.

However, Cillin never expected the Godfather to be a member of the Xi family. Cillin had never seen an image of him; there were no photos of him even in highly classified files. This was partly due to the deliberate actions of the Star Alliance government, and partly due to the Godfather himself. Erasing his own records shouldn’t be too difficult for him, especially with Juno around.

But what exactly was the Godfather’s intention here? They had been talking for so long, and he showed no sign of making a move.

The Godfather was neither angered by Beythor’s words nor did he refute them. Instead, he tilted his head slightly and said to Cillin, “The mother ‘Dream Tapir’ is inside his heart, and has already integrated with it.”

In other words, to extract the “Dream Tapir,” Beythor’s heart had to be removed. Thus, Beythor would undoubtedly die. Given Beythor’s current health, he probably wouldn’t last long even if his auxiliary respirator was taken off, let alone if his heart was removed. He simply couldn’t endure a transplant or any other treatment.

This was what Beythor meant earlier when he said the Godfather was using someone else’s hands to kill him. Beythor had thought the Godfather would do it himself, but that wasn’t the case; he was waiting for Cillin.

Beythor’s smile twisted. “Take my heart? With this insignificant ant?”

‘An insignificant ant... is he talking about me?’ Cillin thought.

Beythor looked at Cillin as if looking at a lower-level animal. “Boy, do you know what the consequences are for killing me with your own hands?”

Cillin frowned, staying silent.

Before Beythor could continue, the Godfather answered directly.

“There are only two outcomes for killing an unconvicted senior senator. The first is that he gets convicted—and it must be a major capital offense—in which case you are fine. The second is that he dies, and you die too. However, I believe His Excellency Senator Beythor has already arranged all his posthumous affairs. Given the influence and political network he and his father have accumulated in the political arena, the latter possibility is the most likely.”

Indeed, there was currently no hard evidence to prove Beythor was the mastermind behind all these events. With Beythor’s capabilities, he had surely prepared everything well in advance—everything needed to prove his own innocence, as well as the scapegoats to take the fall for his actions.

The big shots of the Star Alliance didn’t want to go to war over someone like Beythor. Even if they did, they couldn’t act impulsively or suddenly. After all, pulling a single hair moved the whole body; every incident involved the interests of too many people, especially those in politics.

If Cillin slaughtered Beythor now, he wouldn’t even have to wait until tomorrow; all the charges against him would be placed on the desks of the various decision-makers.

Often, black and white were not as distinct as one might imagine.

“Have you decided?” the Godfather asked.

“How do I do it?” Cillin looked at the Godfather.

Cillin’s question also served as his answer. He could use the Emperor to find the location of the mother “Dream Tapir,” but he wasn’t entirely certain how to safely extract the mother organism and obtain a complete antibody.

Right now, Cary and Chifeng were both lying over there. Cillin didn’t know yet if anyone else in the Eleventh Squad was infected, but Mo Heng was very likely infected. Mo Heng had taken off his protective suit to repair the Land Combat Armor and some instruments alongside the Legion Engineers.

There were only the four of them here. Judging by the situation, the Godfather and Juno absolutely wouldn’t lift a finger. They couldn’t wait for others to arrive, and Cillin couldn’t afford to wait either.

Knowing Cillin’s decision, Beythor shook his head, as if feeling sorry for him. He didn’t act like a man about to be slaughtered at all. Looking completely unconcerned, he turned his head back to gaze out the window.

The Godfather looked at Cillin and signaled Juno to bring the things out.

Following the instruction, Juno took out a tank already filled with green fluid. They had prepared everything in advance; perhaps they had even anticipated Cillin’s arrival.

After briefly explaining the key points to Cillin, the Godfather stopped talking. During this time, Beythor continued to calmly watch the scenery outside the window.

Once the Godfather finished speaking, the communicator on Juno’s wrist beeped.

After glancing at the message on the communicator, Juno said, “The last two hidden bases of ‘Miracle’ have been wiped out.”

The hidden strongholds of “Miracle” had been exposed one after another, and now almost all of them had been overrun by the Legion.

“‘Miracle’ is gone,” the Godfather said, looking at Beythor.

Beythor’s reaction remained completely calm; he felt no heartache at all. He was about to die anyway, so what use did he have for “Miracle”? To him, “Miracle” was just a plaything while he lived, a toy to toy with others. By borrowing others’ hands to destroy the caretakers of the Red Branch, instigating internal strife within the Blue Branch, turning the dignified Godfather into a half-man, half-machine, driving the Xi Family White Branch to their deaths, and creating the peak era where “Miracle” dominated the industry, he had plunged the entire Star Alliance into chaos. What was there for him to regret?

As Beythor replied, “So what? At least I won. I beat all of you. Xi Luo, you will always be a loser.”

...

Ten minutes later.

Cillin held the tank of fluid in his hands. Inside the tank was a still-beating heart; what drove this disembodied heart to beat was the mother “Dream Tapir” inside it. The heart’s original owner lay slumped against the windowsill, a bloody hole in his chest.

Now that he had obtained this, Cillin prepared to leave. Time was running short.

Before leaving, Cillin said one last thing to the Godfather: “The people who stayed behind in the Red Branch back then were not abandoned. It’s just that the person they were waiting for could never come back.”

Not long after Cillin left, someone came to handle Beythor’s corpse.

Juno pushed the Godfather out of the room.

“He is still too young,” the Godfather said softly. This was his assessment of Cillin.

No longer completely green, yet lacking true maturity. But precisely because he was young, and precisely because of the recklessness and stubbornness unique to his age, right and wrong remained sharply clear to him, rather than just a calculation of interests.

“Speaking of Cillin, what about Jiada’s bet? Which side did you wager on?” Juno asked.

“You’ll know when the time comes...”

...

When Cillin arrived at the Legion stronghold with the tank of fluid, Max was already there waiting for him. Without saying or asking much, Max led Cillin to a pre-prepared laboratory. All the extraction tools inside were fully stocked.

He didn’t see Knight, Ci Jincheng, or the others. Even Lung and Allen were nowhere to be seen. They had been forcibly taken away. Lung’s Fox Grandfather had issued a strict order, sending Beljett over to drag them off by force. This was the first time Fokis had issued such a strong, undeniable command since delegating power to Lung.

The others had likely faced similar situations.

While leading Cillin over, Max hesitated several times, clearly uncomfortable. Having climbed to his current position, he understood the twists and turns of these matters all too well. In every war, someone always had to carry the burden.

This was not a world where being innocent meant being guiltless. The helplessness of it all was suffocating.

However, Cillin remained completely silent. He didn’t ask why Max was waiting there, he didn’t ask how they knew he had obtained the mother organism, and he didn’t ask why a lab for extracting the antibody was already set up.

The Godfather had ties to the Legion, perhaps even a cooperative relationship to deal with Beythor. Knowing this, Cillin could deduce the rest. He understood everything, so there was no need to question Max.

Cillin personally extracted the mother “Dream Tapir” from the heart. The Legion didn’t provide him with any assistants, and he didn’t call on anyone from the Eleventh Squad to help. Working entirely alone, he completed the whole series of tasks: extracting the complete antibody from the mother “Dream Tapir” and expanding its volume. He selected two critically ill soldiers for injection, and only after confirming the antibody’s effectiveness did he hand the mass-produced batch over to Max. Taking a portion of the antibody for himself, he headed to Cary and Chifeng’s isolation ward.

Tang Qiuqiu and Mogas were standing guard there, with the massive Snowball curled into a ball, resting quietly beside Tang Qiuqiu. Seeing Cillin walk in, the two quickly stood up to greet him.

Cillin wasn’t wearing his Armor. He raised the Syringe in his hand, giving the two a reassuring look.

He injected the antibody into Cary and Chifeng. Only after watching all their physiological indicators return to normal did Cillin leave the temporary isolation room. This isolation ward would soon be dismantled. Cillin told Tang Qiuqiu, Mogas, and Mengqialuo to watch over Cary and Chifeng, instructing them to go find Eudy once the two had recovered sufficiently.

Max had said, “Your contribution will not be denied,” but Cillin merely smiled at that, remaining noncommittal. No matter how great the contribution, once the incident passed, everything else would fade away with it. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have made Cillin be the one to kill Beythor.

The Star Alliance didn’t just have one “Miracle.” Just as Beythor had built “Miracle” in the past, even with him gone, there were others in the Star Alliance—people similar to Beythor. Given the chance, similar organizations would always rise again to take “Miracle’s” place. As for who would replace “Miracle,” that would depend on the intentions of those at the very top.

How many more things like this would happen?

Cillin didn’t go to the Eleventh Squad’s aircraft. He knew he was being monitored right now. The people from the Legion, along with others waiting for Cillin to take the fall, waiting to eliminate him, or harboring some other motive, were all keeping a close eye on him to prevent his escape.

In truth, Cillin had anticipated this when he decided to go after the mother “Dream Tapir.” He didn’t want to run away; right now, he just wanted to enjoy a few more moments of freedom.

Outside the stronghold, artillery fire and slaughter filled the air. The sky, stained by the battlefield, looked like the end of the world—it was no longer azure. Yet, in such a sky, there was unexpectedly a patch of pure white cloud, so white it felt unreal.

Cillin lay on top of an aircraft that was grounded for repairs, resting his head on his arms. He watched that small patch of cloud drift further away, floating past the fighter jets, cutting through the artillery fire, until it vanished at the end of the horizon.