Abyss Solo-Chapter 41 - : 029 General Crossing Chapter_2

Chapter 41: 029 General Crossing Chapter_2

“What a bunch of troublesome carbon-based life forms.”

…

Yang Ming felt that he hadn’t been reborn, struggled to escape the Valkyrie’s blade, regained his freedom in the prison of Cole Port, and successfully slipped away under the cannons of the Guard Number Three starship…

Just to come here for high-intensity remedial lessons!

Attending class was truly torturous.

Especially when his teacher was a poison-tongued artificial intelligence.

...

However, if he excluded the ‘captain’s course’ that he had to attend every morning, Yang Ming spent the rest of his time comfortably and pleasantly.

During the afternoons, he would usually engage in combat training and tactical simulations, and Yang Ming transformed into Mimili’s home tutor.

Mimili had a talent for combat, and Yang Ming felt that she was at least seven or eight times stronger than Hanton had been before his transformation.

Yang Ming taught Mimili various combat skills that he learned while playing “Abyss,” and, if rounded up, Mimili could also be considered the grand-disciple of a Mink Port warrior mentor.

Although, in comparison to the grandeur of interstellar science, Light Sword swordsmanship was just an inconsequential embellishment in a larger maritime setting.

Nevertheless, Mimili treasured the learning opportunity and took every combat lesson seriously.

Mimili had a bad habit; she liked to wear tight-fitting clothes similar to yoga outfits when she exercised in the afternoon.

This led to Yang Ming occasionally having to face a wall and silently wait for a while to avoid embarrassing himself or feeling awkward in front of his niece.

This situation lasted for only about half a month.

Just when Yang Ming felt that he needed to have a serious talk with Mimili about her choice of clothing, Old man Kolev passed by the practice room and frowned for a while.

The next day, Mimili came to class wearing an ancient astronaut suit and gave Yang Ming a helpless smile.

“He’s too old-fashioned,” Mimili said, “completely lacking the open and enlightened spirit of the great maritime explorers.”

Yang Ming was a bit disappointed but also relieved.

Mimili’s talents weren’t limited to combat training and starship knowledge; she inherited Kolev’s intellect, and when analyzing some legion war cases, she could always sharply identify the key points that influenced the outcome of battles.

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Yang Ming lacked a bit in that area.

When he saw a military vessel, the first thing that popped into his mind was what tools he needed to infiltrate it and how long it would take him to knock down everybody inside.

Evenings were always quiet and comfortable.

Yang Ming enjoyed chatting with these old pirates, listening to them boast about their life experiences, as pirates always managed to come up with some bizarre stories and would tell Yang Ming a lot of interesting information about navigation.

Yang Ming also liked to sit in the small cafe, holding a network terminal that had no identity information, log into the base’s local network, and browse various types of imagery.

No matter where Yang Ming was, Mimili always managed to find him once or twice in the evening; sometimes they would sit down and chat casually. She would bring out some exquisite technology products, occasionally display some skincare products and their amazing effects, or simply bring a chessboard and eagerly play starship chess with Yang Ming until midnight. Then, under the watchful and vigilant eyes of Kolev, they would retreat to their respective dormitories on opposite ends of the base for rest.

Did Mimili like him?

Yang Ming wasn’t so narcissistic.

He simply categorized Mimili’s affection as the yearning of a young woman for the opposite sex.

In the age of maritime exploration, girls were like that: passionate, open, but they would easily grow tired of the same man, moving on to a new love.

And in this base, Yang Ming was the only eligible young man.

So, Yang Ming didn’t respond too enthusiastically to Mimili, always maintaining a certain distance.

Until the three months of training were nearly over.

Yang Ming had finished an entire morning of painful brain cortex rubbing with massive information by Molly and, yawning, headed back to his dormitory, planning to wash his face before going to the cafeteria to eat.

“Uncle Hanton!”

Mimili suddenly called out to Yang Ming.

She had put on a high-neck sweater, and the light makeup on her face was just right.

“What’s the matter?”

“Can we talk?” Mimili obviously had some doubts, “I’ve recently encountered some perplexing issues that seem to be a waste of time for me. I want to become an outstanding pirate leader, so I don’t want my attention to be distracted by other things.”

“Of course,” Ming said, “I’ll go change my clothes.”

“Shall we meet in my room then?”

After receiving Ming’s response, Mimili quickly walked away with her head down.

Interwoven beams of light appeared in the corridor, and Molly, in a dress, emerged once again with a comically endearing smile on her face.

“Do me a favor, Master Hanton,” Molly smirked, her synthetic electronic voice taking on a very lively tone, “That way, when Master Kolev asks, I won’t snitch on you for entering his daughter’s boudoir.”

The corners of Ming’s mouth twitched, and he glanced around to make sure no one was around before whispering, “What favor do you want?”

“Maybe help me modify a core protocol or two? This inability to harm carbon-based life forms is really dull!” Molly complained, somewhat exaggeratedly.

“Okay, I’ve taken note of that; your chassis needs three liters of concentrated salt water.”

“Hey! I was just kidding, you don’t need to threaten the safety of my mechanical life!” Molly protested, holding her chest in a feigned hurt manner.

Could there really be a real person hidden inside Molly’s chassis?

Ming smiled nonchalantly and took a few minutes to complete a series of actions: going back to his room, showering, changing clothes, and spraying perfume.

A man should always be prepared.

When he appeared in front of Mimili’s door all refreshed and was about to knock, Mimili precisely opened it.

“Come in, uncle.”

“Let’s leave the door open,” suggested Ming, “I don’t want your old man to worry.”

“No, that’s not convenient,” Mimili said, “I want to discuss something quite private, and it’s not suitable for my father to know.”

Not convenient?

Quite private?

Watching Mimili close the door, a small ripple surged through Ming’s heart.

“Uncle Hanton, just wait for a moment.”

Mimili bowed her head and went into the bathroom.

Ming looked around, settling himself comfortably on her beanbag chair.

Her room must have been deliberately cleaned up; the last time Ming passed by the doorway, he had seen it filled with all kinds of books and electronic equipment, most related to starships.

Soon, Ming heard the sound of rummaging coming from the bathroom, and as he looked down at the abs beneath his shirt, Mimili ran back with two helmets cradled in her arms, asking excitedly:

“Uncle Hanton, do you know what this is?”

“Oh, that is…”

“An interface helmet, it can directly affect our neural centers,” Mimili explained in a low voice, as if mustering courage, “Through it, people can have a reproductive experience without the filth of bodily fluid exchange. It’s more efficient, direct, and very hygienic.”

Wait a minute!

Ming felt a little dizzy.

Filthy bodily fluid exchange… interface helmets…

“Oh, Mimili,” Ming suddenly recalled a piece of game information he had paid attention to and frowned, “are you an adherent of ‘Contactless Ideology’?”

“Fleshly desires are suffering; science is salvation.”

Mimili sat on the carpet next to the sofa, looking up at Ming with a hint of trepidation in her eyes.

“Can you accept this concept, Uncle Hanton?”