【Interstellar Contract Magician】Ruyuanke

Chapter 353 [Empire] Inspection

We still have to board the starship eventually, after all, it is an interstellar transportation mission.

Nightingale said nothing, silently adjusting the mission data on his computer. Every movement he made seemed precise and calm, his battle-hardened habits etched into second nature. Interstellar missions typically involve numerous risks and technical maneuvers. This transport mission, while seemingly ordinary, was inevitably fraught with hidden dangers.

"Are you ready?" Nightingale asked me, her tone calm but with a hint of nervousness.

I nodded, even though the battle before the mission made me feel a little heavy.

We arrived at the Starship's gate. As part of an interstellar transport mission, Starship security was extremely strict, and everyone had to go through multiple levels of screening. These procedures had long been a minor obstacle for me, but tonight, the security process was exceptionally rigorous.

"Your identity information." The security officer in front of me handed me an ID card impatiently and looked at me coldly, as if he didn't want to say anything more.

I took the card and scanned it to confirm it was correct. By then, Nightingale had already passed through security, ignoring the checkpoint. It was obvious he was used to this kind of situation.

After a while, we finally boarded the starship. It was called the "Star," a long-distance transport vessel primarily responsible for transporting supplies between the Empire's capital and the outer star systems. While the interior wasn't luxurious, it was clean and practical, with every functional area readily available.

We were assigned to the cargo area in the middle section. While not as luxurious as the passenger cabin, it was more than adequate for our rest. The surroundings were rather austere, with white walls and metal floors reflecting a cold light, creating an unusually quiet atmosphere.

Nightingale looked around and took out her device: "The mission file has been transferred to the system. A designated contact will come to pick us up later."

I nodded, casually setting down my luggage, silently pondering the dangers I might encounter next. While interstellar transport missions may seem simple, they are actually full of variables, especially regarding this destination.

Just as I was about to sit down and rest, I heard footsteps outside. Nightingale's face turned serious and she quickly put away her equipment: "Here they come."

At the door stood a man in a silver uniform, his face stern, clearly a member of the crew. He glanced at us and said simply, "Follow me."

Nightingale said nothing, but stood up and followed. I followed closely behind, my heart racing. Regardless, we were approaching a crucial point in the mission.

The starship corridor was wider than I'd imagined, but the further I walked, the more oppressive I felt. Nightingale's pace remained steady, but I had to constantly remind myself to stay calm.

We walked to a hidden cabin and the door slowly opened, revealing the equipment and control consoles inside.

"This is your mission area," the crew member said coldly, "Get ready."

I took a deep breath and walked in. Immediately, the hatch closed, the surrounding electronic equipment started up, and the display screens began to flash. Nightingale walked to the console and began to adjust the system.

"If everything goes well, there shouldn't be any big problems." Nightingale whispered.

The starship started slowly, the hull vibrated slightly, and headed towards the depths of the distant interstellar space.

I had expected the starship to encounter some kind of "surprise attack." After all, interstellar transport missions are usually not easy, especially when it comes to transporting supplies between the capital system and the outer systems. Many forces are bound to be wary of such "smuggling" operations. However, contrary to my expectations, the starship sailed smoothly, with almost no anomalies. Perhaps those who wanted to "cause trouble" were concerned that since this was a mixed-use passenger and cargo ship, patrols would be more vigilant, and any real action might attract unnecessary attention.

During the dozen or so hours aboard the starship, while Nightingale and I were busy, we didn't encounter much trouble either. We spent most of our time monitoring the ship's systems, ensuring the mission was proceeding smoothly, and occasionally checking on the status of some cargo. Throughout this time, Nightingale remained remarkably calm, a level head I found even somewhat mysterious. It seemed as if no matter what happened, he always managed to maintain a calm composure.

I also know that Nightingale is no mere mercenary. Behind his silence and composure lies a hidden secret. And I've gradually learned not to ask too many questions. We're not ordinary people. In this interstellar world, many things aren't known simply because you want to know them.

Finally, after more than ten hours of sailing, the starship smoothly entered its destination's orbit and slowly landed on the surface of a desolate and barren planet. This planet was not very large, but it was regarded by some forces as a "transit station" where various trade activities took place, with dangers, benefits and opportunities coexisting.

The name of the destination wasn't particularly unusual—"Black Wasteland." The name itself revealed the planet's characteristics: desolate and barren, yet possessing other values ​​that could not be ignored.

The starship landed steadily on a massive cargo platform. There was no one around, only the vague outlines of buildings and stalled aircraft in the distance. Nightingale and I disembarked and exited the starship. The air outside smelled slightly of dust, not too hot, but dry.

"This is the destination of our mission." Nightingale said calmly, pointing to the building ahead. "The goods here will be delivered to the designated buyer. Our mission is just to ensure a smooth handover."

I nodded. Although the task sounded simple, I knew that being able to trade on a planet like this must involve the interests of certain forces. Although there was nothing unusual on the surface.

"Are you ready?" Nightingale asked me in a low voice, with a hint of alertness in her eyes.

I took a deep breath, looked around, and tried not to show my emotions: "Be prepared at any time."

We walked towards our destination, a vast warehouse filled with containers. A deathly silence reigned, as if we were the only two people on the planet. From time to time, we could see figures passing by in the distance, but everyone kept their distance; no one approached us.

"The target location is ahead." Nightingale continued to lead me.

I followed Nightingale toward the warehouse, but a sense of unease gradually welled up in me. Although there were no obvious signs of what was about to happen, this completely static environment always felt like a huge trap, waiting for some "prey" to arrive at any time.

However, the unexpected calm lasted for a few minutes. We finally arrived at the designated handover location. The warehouse looked unremarkable from the outside, but inside, it was filled with a variety of complex goods and equipment, and the atmosphere was extremely solemn.

"This is the target area." Nightingale paused and whispered, "Get ready. After we hand over the goods, we must leave quickly."

I nodded, my heartbeat quickening slightly, my fingertips unconsciously stroking the buttons on the computer. At that moment, I could almost hear my inner voice—this was the critical moment.

Just as we were about to hand over, footsteps suddenly sounded at the warehouse entrance. I turned alertly and saw several men in black combat uniforms. Their steady steps revealed them to be well-trained soldiers. The leader approached us, his eyes sharp as he scanned the surroundings.

"Are you the ones in charge of this shipment?" he asked coldly, his voice devoid of any warmth.

"Yes, the goods are ready." Nightingale replied calmly, showing no emotion at all.

I clenched my fists nervously. Although I wasn't sure what would happen next, I knew these people were definitely not simple trading partners. In a place like this, no one would easily trust others, and every transaction could become a game.

"Okay." The leader nodded. "Let's begin the transaction."

Over the next few minutes, the atmosphere grew increasingly tense. Although it appeared calm on the surface, I knew deep down that this was the most dangerous moment.

I quietly observed, my gaze sweeping over every detail calmly, trying to appear like a bystander. While nothing could be seen on the surface, every movement, every subtle expression, could harbor dangerous signals. The men in black, in particular, seemed all too familiar with this environment. Every turn, every glance, betrayed a deep familiarity and mastery of the area.

Nightingale remained calm and composed, as if everything was under control. I knew he was more alert than anyone else. We were both participants in the transaction and potential prey. Although everything seemed normal at the moment.

Several men in black walked toward the center of the warehouse, and the commander appeared to be inspecting the goods being handed over. Judging by these people, they were clearly not just ordinary buyers or sellers; their aura and demeanor suggested a staged operation.

"The goods are here." Nightingale's voice was calm and clear. "We will deliver them immediately after inspection."

One of the men in black nodded, slowly walked over to the cargo, picked up one of the boxes, and opened a corner. As he began to move, I frowned slightly. Although nothing seemed out of the ordinary, I sensed that this was all going too smoothly, too smoothly to be justified.

"Wait." Suddenly, the commander stopped and locked eyes with Nightingale, as if examining him. "Is your cargo...really okay?"

Nightingale's expression didn't change at all. He remained calm and composed. "The goods are correct."

But the moment he finished speaking, an unusual sense of tension filled the air. I could almost feel the atmosphere around us suddenly freeze for a few seconds.

The commander's eyes flickered slightly. He suddenly turned his head and whispered, "Check their identities."

My heart skipped a beat. Although no one had taken action, that command seemed to signal a turbulent tide. Everyone's nerves tensed instantly, and the air was filled with tension.

"Identity?" Nightingale smiled slightly, "You still want an identity?"

"That's right." The commander's tone was a little cold, "Not everyone can come and go here as they please."

I noticed that his eyes gradually changed from calm to hostile, as if he had doubts about our identities. I could also sense that this suspicion might be hiding something more dangerous.

Nightingale didn't move. He still had a silent smile on his face, but his eyes gradually became sharper. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Why?" the commander asked coldly, "Don't you know who we are?"

Nightingale's smile remained, but her tone was no longer relaxed: "I know, but you may not understand me."

At that moment, I suddenly had a bad feeling. Although Nightingale still maintained a calm appearance.

Just as I was about to reassess the situation, the commander suddenly waved his hand, signaling his men to stop checking and turn to look at me: "You, come here."

My heart tightened, and I immediately stood up straight, ready to deal with any possible situation. But I knew that we could not turn back.

Nightingale tilted his head slightly, his eyes meeting mine, and at that moment, I knew he, too, was assessing the direction of all this. There was no need for words between us; our actions were our language.