There Must Be Something Wrong With This Game!

Perhaps it was because the fear of death was driving him mad, but Hancock was completely unaware that he couldn’t actually escape.

The surveillance system on the Ares Star Gate was highly advanced. Not long after he ran off, Little Fatty had already hacked into the local database and sent over his location.

He had also planned to deal with their wanted notices, but Little Fatty ran a search using all the crew members’ names as keywords and, to his surprise, found no warrants for their arrest.

"That’s weird. We’ve done so much bad stuff, why isn’t there a warrant out for us?" Little Fatty asked, confused. "Brother Duan, do you know why?"

"I’m not Dora Bmon, how would I know?" Duan Fei frowned as well.

He had already formulated a plan: if talks broke down, he would kidnap the Governor, plant a bomb to destroy the Star Gate and cut off any pursuers, and finally have everyone split up and rendezvous on Azure Star.

But they hadn’t even been listed as wanted!

This left Duan Fei feeling a little annoyed and hesitant. He wondered if the Federation had some other ace up its sleeve waiting for them.

Under the circumstances, Duan Fei could only lay low for now and prepare to watch for the Federation’s next move.

It had to be said, bureaucratic inaction had its upsides.

At least it had saved the Ares Star Gate from annihilation.

Watching Hancock on the screen, Duan Fei saw that after escaping, he had immediately run to a tavern and gotten dead drunk, spending his very last credit on booze.

The Ares Star Gate was at the very edge of the Federation’s territory.

Criminals flocked here in droves, and intergalactic crime syndicates were regulars.

Since the Star Gate wasn’t built on a star, all Energy had to be imported via spaceships. The crime syndicates that controlled this trade made a fortune, becoming patrons to the local criminals.

Even the local troops had started engaging in smuggling. But the Governor here was clever; while turning a blind eye to his troops’ activities, he also signed agreements with the crime syndicates, having them serve him as mercenaries.

All these different factions converged and tangled here, creating a delicate balance of power.

Seeing the dead-drunk Hancock, the Missionary of Love burst into tears.

"You poor child! How starved for affection must you be to end up like this! As your companion, I will fill you with my love!"

"Get lost!" the Shadow God snapped. "I’m begging you, can you please act normal for once? You’re dragging down our whole vibe. Now is the time to preach the greatness of the Lord of Shadows to him. As long as he begins to worship the Lord of Shadows, all his problems will be solved."

"Both of you, get lost," Duan Fei said, exasperated.

Navigators were hard to come by. Little Fatty had discovered this fact after hacking the local database.

All registered Navigators were assigned to specific ships. This was because Navigators possessed one irreplaceable skill: detecting the location of Void Points.

Some joked that Navigators were Superpower Users who had yet to awaken their abilities. They seemed to have an innate sensitivity to the Void, allowing them to see its presence and traverse it.

Therefore, without Hancock, it would be nearly impossible for Duan Fei and his crew to complete their mission.

Kidnapping another Navigator was an option, but Duan Fei couldn’t be sure they wouldn’t come with their own set of problems. After all, this place was crawling with criminals.

Besides, he felt a tiny bit of sympathy for Hancock’s plight.

The NPC was just too damn unlucky, after all.

Especially since they were the cause of most of his bad luck.

After thinking it over, he decided to go with the Shadow God in person. He would have a nice chat with Hancock, resolve the man’s issues once and for all, and get him to work for them with his whole heart.

The bar Hancock was in was located in the most chaotic part of the Ares Star Gate.

Bloodstains were the most common decoration. Whenever a corpse appeared, a pair of eerie, green eyes would emerge from the sewers, swiftly dragging the body down to be used for all sorts of unspeakable purposes.

The filthy alleyways were filled with bizarre residents. Junkies whose brains had been fried by all sorts of dirty, unsanitary drugs were a common sight.

In the short, three-hundred-meter walk, Duan Fei was shot at thirty-one times from the shadows, stabbed twenty-five times, and had some unknown liquid splashed on him thirteen times.

Duan Fei was actually pretty happy about it, since someone was helping him grind his passive skills and resistances.

At the same time, it gave the Shadow God a chance to ruthlessly enact ’justice’ over a hundred times.

Duan Fei felt the Shadow God was like a Holy Knight. He showed no mercy to their attackers, striking cleanly and efficiently, taking out several enemies with every move.

This high schooler was ruthless and swift, killing without a word of nonsense. He was practically a celebrity in the world of decisive slaughter.

When they finally reached their destination and pushed open the bar’s doors, the once-raucous establishment fell silent at the sight of the Shadow God. Only the music from a phonograph could be heard.

This place rarely saw new faces; most were dealt with at the door. Anyone who made it inside alive was either ridiculously lucky or absurdly strong.

Duan Fei and the Shadow God were obviously the latter, while the dead-drunk guy was presumably the former.

Duan Fei gave the heavily intoxicated Hancock a nudge and found him completely passed out.

Just as he was about to order something to sober him up, a man walked over. He grinned menacingly and said, "This guy owes a hefty bar tab. Now you have two choices: either you pay his debt, or you take a few bullets for him."

Duan Fei whipped out a Crowbar, smashed it against the man’s shoulder, and snatched his Energy Gun as he cried out in pain. Then, he pointed the gun at his own head and fired several shots.

This time, even the phonograph fell silent.

The Energy Gun wasn’t particularly powerful, but it was more than enough to pierce a person’s temple and knock them unconscious.

Under the terrified gazes of the crowd, Duan Fei kept firing the Energy Gun until it was nearly out of energy. He then pointed it at the head of the mohawked thug across from him and said, "Your turn. BANG!"

The thug immediately dropped to his knees, foamed at the mouth, and passed out.

Tossing the Energy Gun aside, Duan Fei shrugged and asked, "Now, anyone else want to play ’I take ten shots, you take one’ with me?"

No one replied.

Faced with Duan Fei’s placid gaze, the crowd of blood-soaked Executioners could only avert their eyes, not daring to meet his.

"Let me ask again. Does anyone have a problem with me taking my Navigator?"

Still, no one dared to answer.

A man who doesn’t fear death isn’t scary, because he’ll die young.

But a man who doesn’t fear death and *can’t* die? That’s terrifying. Because he’ll eventually be the death of you.

And right now, in their minds, Duan Fei was exactly that kind of terrifying figure.

Nodding in satisfaction, Duan Fei said to the Bartender, "Get my Navigator something to sober him up. I’ll have a cocktail. My first mate isn’t of age, so just get him a glass of sweet milk."

The Shadow God glared at Duan Fei, his eyes narrowed and brimming with annoyance.

’So you get to look cool while I get embarrassed, is that it?!’

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