Chapter 25: Intrusion

David, controlling the Shadow Attendant, appeared before the secure quantum terminal. With a gentle tap, the Shadow Attendant brought up the permissions page. Ignoring it, he swiftly began inputting commands. If an incorrect password was entered three times, the permissions page would lock and trigger an alarm. This was the final line of defense for the secure terminal. If an electronic warfare specialist with 98% mastery couldn’t breach it in close proximity, then such mastery would be worthless.

Yet in barely twenty seconds, the permissions page vanished, replaced by the main operations interface. In the reception hall, where David sipped fruit juice, a satisfied smile crept across his face. His electronic warfare skills alone could grant him a comfortable life in this world, and the Shadow Attendant greatly enhanced those abilities.

Though the Shadow Attendant possessed only a hundred grams of force—useless for attack—it was more than sufficient for operating a quantum terminal. The Shadow Attendant pulled up the list of all high-level administrators at the Star Hotel, selected a long-dormant account, enabled remote access, and planted a hidden program within the terminal.

This hidden program would automatically erase any trace of activity from the account under his control, turning it into a ghost account. As he finished this final step, a wave of applause erupted in his ear—Mayor Bernard had just concluded his speech.

With the speech ended, the banquet officially began. Guests of high status flocked to Mayor Bernard, while the rest mingled with others of similar rank and standing. Every face wore a warm and courteous smile; each person seemed a paragon of refinement and breeding.

David spotted Bertha chatting with several noble ladies, while his father Hans was engaged in an animated conversation with a young man who appeared to be in his twenties. Their exchange seemed particularly earnest.

Hans noticed David as well and beckoned him over. David understood that Hans wished to introduce him to important connections. Though he had little interest in such things, he didn’t wish to jeopardize their newly restored rapport, so he carried his juice over.

“Hans, is this your son? Not bad!” The young man was strikingly handsome, but his tone was grandiose, as if he were addressing a junior.

“David, this is your Uncle Garen, my brother-in-arms from our days enduring life and death together on the war star!” Hans introduced him with a smile.

David looked at Garen in astonishment. According to Hans, Garen had to be at least fifty, and while the average lifespan in the Interstellar Federation was two hundred years, a man of fifty should not look so young.

“Uncle Garen!” David greeted respectfully, despite his surprise.

“Since you’ve called me uncle, I can’t let you go without a gift. Here’s the deal: if you can reach the minimum strength and speed requirements for Naan University before the entrance exams, I’ll see to it you’re admitted to the Armored Warrior Division!” Garen said with a broad smile.

David was startled by Garen’s bold promise. Naan University was the finest on Stonewall Star and had been his predecessor’s goal, but entry was no small feat. Eight hundred kilograms of strength, a hundred meters in 8.5 seconds—these were the bare minimums just to qualify for the exam. After that, one had to undergo combat ability assessments, and Naan University would select only the best.

“David, aren’t you going to thank your Uncle Garen?” Hans nudged him gently in reminder.

“Thank you, Uncle Garen!” David quickly expressed his gratitude.

“David, your father never asks favors of anyone, but after your recent attack, he came to me. I’ll be staying here for a while to handle the Sirius Mercenary Group,” Garen said, casting a glance at Hans before addressing David.

“Garen, there’s no need to bring that up,” Hans chided lightly.

“Hans, what’s wrong with caring for your son? He was lucky to escape a squad of armored mercenaries with his life. The Sirius Mercenary Group won’t get away; I’ve heard the Fifth Fleet locked down the entire Stonewall Star the moment they learned your son was attacked by interstellar mercenaries,” Garen said with a laugh.

“I’m grateful for the trouble it’s caused old friends,” Hans replied with a sigh.

“A ‘National Elite’ cannot be insulted—that’s an iron law. You may not want real power, but your honor and influence remain,” Garen said solemnly. Then, turning back to David, he added, “The Sirius Mercenary Group is finished. I’ll stay here in case they try something desperate and come after you. Besides, I’ll use this opportunity to train you. With your current physical condition, even if you were thrown into Naan University, you couldn’t keep up.”

“Mr. Garen, I wonder if my son could join David in your instruction?” At that moment, Mayor Bernard had come over, smiling as he made the request.

By the mayor’s side stood the young man David had spoken with earlier—Myron, who now greeted him.

“David, since he’s your friend, let him join,” Garen agreed easily, noting their rapport. Teaching two was no more trouble than teaching one.

David was about to object, but Hans gave him a subtle nudge. He understood: there was a hidden arrangement he knew nothing about. It seemed Myron’s friendly approach earlier had not been mere coincidence but had a purpose behind it.

Still, seeing Myron’s somewhat sycophantic smile—a mayor’s son acting so deferential—David thought it best not to comment. He also realized the “big shot” Myron had mentioned earlier must be this remarkably youthful Garen.

“David, what weapons do you use?” Myron asked as the two of them moved aside, leaving Hans, Garen, and Mayor Bernard to their own conversation, which neither young man wished to interrupt.

“I used to train with the longsword, but now I’m considering the warhammer. I also want to see if I have a knack for sniping,” David replied, thinking of his 82% proficiency in warhammer mastery and 20% proficiency in sniping, leaving his options open.

“Why not stick with the longsword? It looks so much cooler. The warhammer is just for brutes!” Myron protested, clearly a longsword enthusiast himself.

He hadn’t finished when Mayor Bernard rapped him lightly on the head. Though the boys’ voices were low, the three adults nearby had heard everything.

“Mr. Garen, I apologize. Myron can be thoughtless,” Mayor Bernard said sheepishly.

“No harm done. I’ll make sure he changes his mind in the days to come,” Garen replied, the hint of a smile on his lips—he had long been a warhammer specialist.

Myron almost wished he could sink through the floor; even he realized his blunder.

Fortunately, the three adults soon lost interest in the boys’ conversation and resumed their own.

“Looks like tough days ahead,” Myron whispered.

“It’s fine. Being taught by someone like him is a rare opportunity,” David replied, genuinely looking forward to Garen’s guidance.

He had been stuck at 99% in basic physical training, unable to further improve his attributes. The closer he got to mastery, the harder progress became. He knew his foundation was weak; physical training was the root of all skills, and his own grasp had been poor. The recent leap in ability had left his body needing time and guidance to adjust.

In the ten days since arriving in this world, no one had coached him. He needed an expert’s eye to spot his weaknesses.

“By the way, you mentioned sniping talent—how about I take you to a shooting range to get tested sometime?” Myron suggested eagerly.

“Sure, but it’ll have to wait. I’m busy for the next while,” David replied, not refusing the offer. In truth, he wanted to test his abilities after integrating the sniping knowledge sphere.

“No doubt you’re busy!” Myron muttered, glancing at Garen in resignation.

Mayor Bernard, of course, couldn’t linger long. At a New Year’s banquet like this, he had many people to meet. Though reluctant to leave Garen’s company, he stayed only a short while before moving on.