Chapter 5: Poor Little One

Poor Little One

Fu Guang pulled off the silver-white mask from her face, a few strands of blood tracing across her jade-like visage; the white glove had been completely soaked red, leaving two red fingerprints on the smooth silver mask.

Li Shao's face was deathly pale, his thin, bloodless lips pressed tightly shut; even if a Sentinel were superhuman, he was still flesh and blood, and Fu Guang didn't know whether his injury would hurt.

Now it seemed that a severe wound would still kill him, and knowing that was enough for her.

She took off the blood-red glove, tossed it into her space, then drew water from the space to thoroughly rinse the bloodstains from her body; droplets traced her brows and eyes, falling onto her calm pupils, and Fu Guang shook out her clothes.

After the rinse, her clothes remained dry as before, not wasting the two hundred star-coins she'd spent on water-repellent attire.

Next she sprayed a concealing agent on her neck, wrists, and similar spots.

After that, Fu Guang crouched down; black threads began to spread across Li Shao's face, his narrow eyes tightly shut, the corners reddened, adding an eerie touch to his handsome visage.

With her slender hand she removed the combat mirror from Li Shao's face, rubbing his vivid red eye‑marks with her fingers; the Sentinel's thick skin showed no change despite the manipulation.

Fu Guang donned the combat mirror, and in her field of view the words "A‑rank Weakness" appeared beside Li Shao.

Red lines slid up and down in her vision, finally stopping at a spot on Li Shao's neck, where they contracted into a blinking point of light.

Fu Guang guessed this was Li Shao's fatal point.

The combat mirror lived up to its name, saving her quite a bit of trouble.

The black threads, carrying an ominous aura, gradually lengthened on Li Shao's face, spreading beneath his black combat uniform onto the skin.

With a clean slash of her dagger, the combat uniform tore apart like paper.

The man's finely trained chest came into view before Fu Guang, its contours distinct; as he breathed, it rose and fell, leaving no mark from the dagger on his skin.

The black threads slowly extended toward his heart.

Fu Guang pressed her hand against the Sentinel's pectoral muscle, and it sank in soft and yielding.

Fu Guang blinked, feeling as if she'd taken advantage, and she pressed her lips together.

Whether it was because Li Shao was fire‑affined or not, his temperature was far higher than hers, and his heart beat slowly beneath her palm.

This wasn't the first Sentinel to mutate before her eyes; Fu Guang recalled that shortly after finishing her guide‑rank assessment, that beautiful frontier planet had suffered an alien invasion.

A flick of the silver ring on her little finger produced a deep‑blue injector in her hand.

"Fu Guang‑sister, you are more important than I."

"Stay alive, sister; you are a guide, you can save more people." Said the girl who was just a bit shorter than her, yet younger—only fourteen years old—her tender voice speaking those words.

The deep‑blue agent was injected into the man's neck, gradually pushing into his body.

The sister's frail arms burst with great strength, carrying her on a long, long trek, until her mental power was exhausted and a wave of pollution swept in—she could do nothing.

Fu Guang blinked; the dried blood on her face hardened into scabs, which flaked off with her movements.

"I hope you can live on, Sentinel."

Fu Guang turned and left, having done what she could, leaving the rest to fate; whether Li Shao would survive was up to him.

Of course, she was too.

After the token was handed over, there was a one‑day cooldown.

She still needed to remain in the Dark Forest for a day.

Fu Guang tore two decent strips from the coat she had tossed aside, wrapped them tightly around her palms, then reversed her grip on the sharp dagger and ventured deeper into the forest.

She left behind a mess and a half‑dead Sentinel.

Just as Fu Guang was about to examine the token, the mental power in her mindscape showed a tendency to be drawn to it, prompting her to halt immediately.

Losing even a bit more mental power would leave her a corpse, straight fodder for aberrations.

The Dark Forest's resources are abundant; a short walk reveals precious medicinal herbs that, to Fu Guang, look like common weeds.

She carefully plucked it, holding the emerald grass in her mouth; the familiar bitter taste stimulated her tongue, and the fluctuations in her mindscape gradually subsided.

A wisp of mental power surfaced once more.

She lifted her gaze to the light‑less Dark Forest; this place truly is miraculous—simply being here allows her mental power to slowly recover, which is exactly the lifesaving remedy she needs now.

She lifted the fallen grass she had stepped on, erased her own traces, and headed toward the unknown distance.

Harmony Light Grass

Cloud Xi Flower

Dragon Snake Fruit

After the inorganic combat mirror, Fu Guang calmly tossed the medicinal ingredients one by one into the cauldron, bubbles gurgling at the bottom.

……

"The Captain said he found a guide—could that be true?" the boy asked, grabbing a hanging branch with one hand, swinging out, then catching another branch on a nearby tree and speeding forward in a lazy, swaying manner.

His voice was full of doubt.

"The Captain has never lied." said the speaker, who, unlike the boy, tapped his toes on the treetop and drifted far away in an instant.

"Guide!" the boy's voice rose, "Lang Ge, do you think I can hide her?"

"If the White Tower and the Military Department can't find her, does she then become mine?"

The white‑clad figure drifting away paused slightly, stepped on a thin leaf, turned his face, and revealed handsome brows and eyes, saying, "Don't dream too much, kid."

The delicate, elf‑like young man with pale green eyes casually snapped a branch and threw it at the boy.

It's because of this pack of mad dogs that his composure can't be maintained.

The branch sliced through the overlapping leaves like a sword, whistling fiercely as it aimed at the boy and lunged.

The boy swung high, his long ponytail tied behind him arcing gracefully.

The boy's eyes bright, he turned and caught the branch in one bite, nonchalantly chewing it while muttering, "Everyone says I'm dreaming, yet they won't let me think?"

The White Tower and the Military Department tightly control the Federation, except in some dark zones where there might be illegal residents.

But guides are different; each upgrade brings a mental tide, and everyone notices the guide due to the mental fluctuations—this is also the most comfortable time for Sentinels to vent.

Every planet has at least one White Tower; mental‑power scans can cover the globe, making it impossible to miss a guide.

Moreover, the guides' identification cards all have locators; the White Tower has the right to investigate and cooperate with the military department, and to take away the guides.

Even if one encounters a guide lacking identification, they would also suspect that the person is an unlucky ghost who came out of a black lab.

However, handing over such an unlucky ghost to the military department or the White Tower can still yield some benefits.

The youth, letting his imagination run wild, then said, "Lang Ge, I heard the academy is sending a guide?"

Is it true or not?

A flash of light passed through the green pupils of the man named Lang Ge, and he replied in a soft voice, "Don't go too far; guides are frail and can't stand your pranks."

"Then it must be true." After a moment, the youth drew out his tone in response, licked his sharp canine teeth, and the corners of his mouth split into a grin as he said, "I don't know which poor little thing it is, or what rank."

"I doubt the rank will be high; the White Tower wouldn't bear to part with those treasures of hers."

"D-rank guide."

"Name?"

"Fu Guang."

"Fu Guang." He bit his words, then said, "What a good name."

"I suddenly feel a bit eager."