Chapter 117: It’s Not Like I Can Nurse Him
Translated by Addis of Exiled Rebels Scanlations
Editor: Karai
Guy also wore moon-white—standard uniform color for the Sixth Legion.
He was tall and broad-shouldered, with strong arms, back, and core muscles that strained the fabric of his uniform. Despite the child in his arms, his posture remained casual, relaxed—like nothing in the universe could bind him.
The pale color only deepened the contrast against his sun-baked skin, giving him the presence of a lion on the open plains, calm yet watchful. If Guy had disappeared for a year or two to become a Star Pirate, there was no way Alonso, the supreme commander of the Sixth Legion, wouldn’t have noticed his chief of staff’s absence.
Likewise, as a high-ranking officer, Guy’s every move would’ve been under scrutiny. He couldn’t have just vanished without explanation.
Especially since one of the Sixth Legion’s main duties was hunting down Star Pirate groups operating in the border sectors. And the one Guy had been with—the Black Fang—wasn’t some small fry. If the Imperial Army had a top-ten list of pirate threats, Black Fang would’ve been number one. And Guy had been out there using his real name the entire time.
“Alonso knows about your Star Pirate identity,” Lin Xu said, his gaze locked on Guy, who spread his hands in an ambiguous gesture, neither confirming nor denying.
But when had he become a pirate? Was it before he joined the Sixth Legion? Or had he become one after rising through the ranks—using his position to shield the Black Fang?
“Is the Sixth Legion a pirate nest now?” Lin Xu pressed.
The Dionysus Sector was a chaotic mess. Law enforcement, the economy, education, political stability—it was all a tangled stew of dysfunction. Central management from Crescent District had almost no real influence here. A patchwork of criminal and violent groups only added fuel to the fire. Star Pirates, black market cartels, rebellious factions spun off from Imperial legions…
The Second and Sixth Legions were stationed there just to barely keep the peace. But if even the military was corrupt from the inside…
Guy chuckled. “Now that’s a bit harsh. Alonso and I have run the Sixth Legion for years—we’re strict, disciplined. We even negotiated a ceasefire with the rebels. Things in our sector are stable.”
“And besides,” he added, bouncing the baby gently in his arms, “how much money do you think piracy actually brings in? Not nearly as much as staging a little sob story in front of the Imperial Council.”
He wasn’t wrong. Even the biggest pirate groups usually had seven or eight starships at most—and those were often rust buckets. They mostly preyed on passing merchant convoys and couldn’t hope to match real Imperial firepower. Still, the sheer number of pirate groups along the borders made them a constant headache for the Empire.
“Then why did you…”
“Some things can’t be done out in the open.” Guy shifted Adrian in his arms as the baby let out a soft whimper and started blowing spit bubbles. “You know as well as I do, Dionysus is too much of a mess. The Empire can’t reach everything. We have to find… alternative methods.”
He gently patted the baby’s back. “And I had to bring Adrian with me. Alonso’s still on the front lines—it’s too dangerous there. Honestly, crossing fifteen light-years to attend a banquet on Capital Star was safer than staying where she is.”
The baby stirred again, whimpering like a kitten. Tiny hands reached out, grabbing Guy’s finger and pulling it toward his mouth. Then, without warning, Guy stood and thrust the baby into Lin Xu’s arms.
“He’s hungry.”
Lin Xu blinked. “What?”
Guy threw up his hands. “It’s not like I can nurse him…”
“Sigh, listen to you—not quite,” Guy said with a half-laugh, half-sigh. “Hold him for me, would you? I’ll go grab the bottle.” He adjusted the way Lin Xu was holding the baby, then rushed off toward the other room.
The moment the little one landed in unfamiliar arms, he began wailing, “Ah! Ah!” Lin Xu froze completely, stiff as a board. Awkwardly, he turned to pat the baby’s back—only for Adrian to reach up, grab a handful of Lin Xu’s hair, and shove it right into his mouth.
Lin Xu’s mind went completely blank. A good thirty seconds passed before he finally started thinking: Well, I did wash my hair, it’s probably not too dirty. Letting him gnaw on it… might not be the worst thing.
“Lin Xu.” A voice pulled him back to reality. He turned his head and saw Heinrich already standing beside him.
“This is…?” Heinrich nodded toward the child in Lin Xu’s arms, who was still happily tugging on his hair.
Lin Xu sighed helplessly. “Guy’s kid. His name’s Adrian. He went to get the bottle.”
Heinrich leaned down, trying to free Lin Xu’s hair from the baby’s mouth—but Adrian shot him a fierce glare. A moment later, he burst into tears, likely frightened by Heinrich’s stone-cold face.
Lin Xu’s scalp tingled like it had been electrocuted. For a second, he seriously considered dumping the kid into Heinrich’s arms. Luckily, the rightful parent returned in time. With practiced ease, Guy scooped up the baby with one arm and began feeding him with the bottle in the other. Adrian drank happily, the tears stopping at last.
Once he was sure the baby was feeding properly, Guy gave Heinrich a nod of acknowledgement. “Marshal Chu.”
“Mmh.” Heinrich responded with a hum, pulling a silk ribbon from somewhere and moving behind Lin Xu to tidy his hair. He gathered it all, smoothing it back to prevent another incident. “You rushed back because of Adrian?”
“Yeah.” Guy nodded. “Adrian’s not in the best health—his stomach especially. I packed extra medicine and a special formula for the trip, but if I wait for my ship to be repaired, it’ll never last. I have to get back as soon as I can.”
He paused, like one word had opened a floodgate. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. When I first got pregnant with him, I had no idea alphas could get pregnant. Later, during a check-up, the doctor told me that even though I had a uterus, it was underdeveloped. The embryo was growing slowly.
“To make things worse, my abdominal muscles were constricting the uterus. I could still fit into my old mech combat gear at seven months and went into battle without issue. That mission went on too long, and I had a hemorrhage when I returned. That’s when the doctors finally discovered Adrian.
“They said it was likely that, early in the pregnancy, I wasn’t getting enough energy for both me and the fetus. Adrian was undernourished. Even though he was full-term, he looked like a premature baby. His health’s always been fragile.”
Guy finished feeding the baby and glanced at the time. It was medicine time again. He cradled Adrian back into his arms and left, telling Lin Xu to come find him anytime if he needed anything.
“You know him.” Heinrich was now braiding Lin Xu’s long hair, tying it off with the ribbon in a neat little bow.
“Mm.” Lin Xu twisted around on the couch, resting his arms on the backrest as he looked up at Heinrich. “Eight years ago. I didn’t know he was with the Sixth Legion back then.”
“He was already the Sixth Legion’s chief strategist,” Heinrich clarified.
“Yeah, but I didn’t know that. He wasn’t in uniform. No rank, no insignia. I found him half-dead, torn up by a xenobeast. After he woke up, I told him I had no ID, nowhere to go—so he brought me to Black Fang.”
“Black Fang… the Star Pirate crew?” Heinrich blinked.
“Yep. Guy was their leader. Once I realized they spent all their time drifting through space, I didn’t stay long. I returned to the surface, made a living hunting xenobeasts. I’d run into Guy from time to time. He even helped me get a new identity.”
Heinrich frowned slightly. Guy’s double life carried layers of hidden meaning, and he took a moment to process it.
“Dionysus… is chaotic. But the Imperial center doesn’t care about the chaos. All they care about is the rebel forces trying to seize the entire region and break free from Imperial control.
“The rebels love to chant slogans about exposing the Empire’s oppression and lies, but really,” Heinrich paused, thinking carefully, “Dionysus is too poor. Politicians from the Crescent District and tycoons from the Long Whale Region can’t profit from it. At best, it just proves how vast humanity’s territory has become.
“Even Long Whale has protests against corporate exploitation, but almost none succeed. Only Haven’s an exception. It’s nominally under Imperial control, but practically, it governs itself.”
“So you’re saying, if a high-ranking Sixth Legion officer went and became a pirate, you wouldn’t be surprised?”
Heinrich nodded. “Even if he joined the rebels, I wouldn’t be shocked. But once our leave ends, the Abyss Fleet’s next patrol zone is Dionysus. Let’s hope the Sixth Legion doesn’t stir up trouble.”
With a blank expression, Heinrich played with Lin Xu’s hair for a bit longer before heading off to do what he’d originally been on his way to do—training. Even during breaks, Heinrich stuck to a strict training schedule, making sure he’d be in peak condition when battle called again.
Lin Xu sat cross-legged on the couch and picked up the book he hadn’t finished reading—a collection from the Old World’s poet school.
According to the true historical timeline of the Empire, the poets of the Old World likely descended from the first group to step off the Ark Fleet and settle in the Crescent District five centuries ago. Lin Xu hoped to find something hidden in their works.
But after flipping just a few pages, something popped into his head. He took the book with him to the bedroom and stood in front of the mirror, inspecting himself from every angle.
Then he pinched his own cheek. He’d definitely put some weight back on. At least he didn’t look skeletal anymore. Still, why did it feel like the custom-made outfit he’d just picked up from Gorlin’s shop was already… tight?
Back at the apocalypse base, once Lin Xu became a combatant, he’d spent all his time on the front lines. Gaining weight hadn’t even been a possibility. After arriving in the interstellar era, his lack of energy had caused his health to deteriorate—he kept losing weight, no matter what.
But now, with energy in good supply… he had a feeling that if he didn’t start moving again, his muscles would just melt away.
Author’s Note:
Professor Lin never once considered that the extra weight he’d gained might not actually be his own.
