Just thinking about how many people had witnessed that scene made Lin Xiaohe so embarrassed she wished she could tear open a wormhole on the spot and escape.
“Turncoat—I mean, Octopus—what exactly are you trying to do? Keep a low profile, would you?”
Talk of “unifying the universe” was just too cringeworthy.
The octopus’s pea-sized eyes showed a hint of hurt, and its sparkling, shimmering body gradually dimmed. “Boo hoo… as the number one underling under our Lord, don’t I deserve to have a name?”
Its massive body paired with that soft, whiny voice sent a wave of goosebumps all over Lin Xiaohe.
“Two turncoats make ten—from now on, your name is Xiao Shi!” (Little Ten)
Xiao Shi humbly gestured with several tentacles in a welcoming pose, flattering obsequiously: “Xiao Shi welcomes our Lord!”
The Lin Xiaohe family had gained another new member. Xin Bao was the first to clap: “Welcome, welcome! A warm welcome!”
Fan Fan, who hated bugs, said: “Xiao Shi, from now on you have to behave. Whatever the big brothers and sisters tell you to do, you do it—got it?”
Xiao Shi snarled viciously: “What, you wanna throw down? Get this straight—under our Lord, I’m the top dog!”
“Big in temper, are you?” Little Red and Yingzi arrived together.
The moment Xiao Shi laid eyes on those two plants, every single one of its cells trembled. Its voice involuntarily dropped: “Ah, it’s you two.”
Yingzi grinned. “Little guy, we meet again. When you’ve got nothing to do, keep telling me those stories of yours, alright?”
This little bug was oddly entertaining—different from all the others. It was always coming up with all sorts of strange tales.
The whole reason Yingzi kept saying “our Lord” in the first place was because Xiao Shi had led her astray.
Xiao Shi looked pitiful and forced a smile. “Okay, no problem.”
Wuwuwu… with those two around, it could only settle for third place. So sad, but it didn’t dare ask its Lord to comfort it.
Xin Bao and the others couldn’t care less about the “number one underling” position—after all, they were the ones with the surname Lin! Lin Xiaohe’s Lin!
Watching Xin Bao and the others chatting animatedly with Xiao Shi via holographic projections, Lin Xiaohe stepped into the Ark.
“Party Leader! Congratulations on gaining another great general!”
“Congratulations, Party Leader!”
Wesley and the others looked at Lin Xiaohe with burning, worshipful eyes.
The Party Leader was just that awesome—able to subdue an entire branch of the Zerg!
Wesley beamed like a blooming flower. “So they weren’t here to pick a fight—they were here to bond! We almost had a case of ‘flooding the Dragon King’s temple’—fighting our own people.”
No one asked Lin Xiaohe what her relationship with the Zerg was, or how she’d tamed the octopuses.
Why bother asking?
There was only one answer: the Party Leader was just that awesome!
Lin Xiaohe swept her mental energy across the entire Ark and keenly noticed that the survivors had begun to stratify.
Ordinary survivors formed one group; Stardust Humans formed another.
Regarding the octopuses acknowledging Lin Xiaohe as their master, most ordinary survivors felt a mix of joy and fear, while the Stardust Humans were exceedingly proud.
Wesley fell half a step behind Lin Xiaohe and quietly briefed her on the evolution process and results.
“All Party members who participated in the evolution succeeded—not a single casualty. According to our records, each person evolved in a different direction. Some developed superhuman olfactory senses—they can smell food from an entire planet away.”
“Some evolved their teeth—they can bite through steel.”
“Some evolved speed—their top speed can reach a thousand kilometers per hour.”
“But they all share one trait: an iron stomach! Incredible digestive ability, with extremely high absorption and utilization of matter.”
As for which species made it onto the menu—well, one taste would tell.
Lin Xiaohe nodded and turned her gaze to Wesley and the others.
The Stardust Humans looked different from ordinary humans—they had lower body fat percentages, and if you looked closely, even their hair carried a faint shimmer of starlight.
After the second evolution, their appearances had changed even more. For example, those who evolved speed had thigh muscles so massive they were staggering!
But Wesley and the others didn’t see this as a bad thing. On the contrary, they welcomed these changes.
Strength was their ticket to survival in the universe.
Wesley also told Lin Xiaohe about the 23rd Division communications ship.
Just as he finished, Guo Hai came to request an audience.
He wanted to return to the Federation, his expression heavy with worry. “The situation in the Federation doesn’t look good. I want to go back and do my part.”
“How are you getting back?”
Guo Hai looked embarrassed and said somewhat sheepishly, “Well… could you possibly take me to the 23rd Division communications ship? I’ll go back with them.”
He’d actually used a respectful honorific.
During the period when Wesley and the others were undergoing their collective evolution, Guo Hai had done his utmost to maintain order on the Ark. Naturally, Lin Xiaohe was willing to do him this favor: “Alright.”
After a moment’s hesitation, she added, “You can also ask the survivors on the Ark if anyone wants to return to the Federation with you. If there are a lot of people, contact the 23rd Division communications ship and see if the Federation can send more transport vessels.”
Wesley immediately frowned. “Anyone with eyes can see we’re more reliable than the Federation! Why would they want to go back? Even if they do, we don’t have to accommodate them.”
Last time they’d wanted to go back, the Federation wouldn’t even take them.
At the time, they’d all been cursing up a storm, swearing to the heavens that they’d make the Federation pay.
Now, how could they possibly want to go back?
Lin Xiaohe patted Wesley’s shoulder reassuringly. “The situation is different.”
The octopuses’ acknowledgment of her as their master had suddenly put Lin Xiaohe in a very awkward position.
Ordinary survivors admired her strength, but they also feared her connection to the Zerg.
Humans weren’t bees—they couldn’t share a single hive mind. Everyone had their own thoughts, and among the ordinary survivors, there was no shortage of conspiracy theorists.
These people believed that Lin Xiaohe had been colluding with the Zerg all along—otherwise, why would the Zerg show her so much respect? Maybe Lin Xiaohe herself was a Zerg!
Sure enough, nearly all the ordinary survivors demanded to return to the Federation. Only about twenty or thirty thousand people said they wanted to join the Star Grain Party.
This result nearly made Wesley explode with rage.
The Star Grain Party had never once considered these ordinary survivors a burden. They’d done everything in their power to rescue them. And yet, these people kept flip-flopping between the Star Grain Party and the Federation.
What, were they being too nice?!
Wesley’s face darkened, and he said coldly: “Put them all on the blacklist. Once they leave, they will never set foot on the Ark again!”
Angry as he was, he would still carry out the Party Leader’s orders without question.
He contacted the 23rd Division communications ship, laid out the situation, and—with an extremely firm tone—demanded that the Federation send ships to pick them up immediately.
At the Fifth Star Ring Combat Command Center, everyone exchanged awkward glances.
The Federation senators instinctively raised their hands to object, but the image of the octopuses parting into two lines to welcome Lin Xiaohe flashed through their minds. They sheepishly lowered their hands.
If they pissed off Lin Xiaohe, wouldn’t that make things even worse for the already devastated Fifth Star Ring?
Out of that concern, the Fifth Star Ring didn’t report the matter to the military higher-ups. Instead, they quietly dispatched a hundred transport ships to pick up the survivors.
The Sixth Star Ring military district forces volunteered to take on the mission.
