Chapter 266: A Mission About the Golden Ayesha
Three days later, the once-silent planet welcomed a new group of visitors.
The spaceship bore the "S" insignia—indicating its passengers belonged to the House of El from Krypton.
Teams of soldiers and researchers in specialized space suits meticulously combed through the planet.
Abandoned ships, Xenomorph corpses, starships from the Engineer civilization—everything was uncovered in their thorough exploration.
Among the findings, they successfully located the Blackwater substance and collected the remains of Kryptonian Xenomorphs.
A high-ranking officer came to report, "Sir, there are no signs of the Guardians of the Galaxy."
The leading core member of the House of El frowned at the news.
They were hoping to prevent any leak of information about the Blackwater, fearing it would draw scrutiny from the interstellar empires.
Clearly, Blackwater was classified as a dangerous biochemical weapon, forbidden to exist in the universe.
In terms of power, Krypton was far inferior to the three great interstellar empires.
And the Green Lantern Corps, who fancied themselves as protectors of the universe, would never allow such a hazardous weapon to spread.
In fact, Krypton's stubborn insistence on researching Blackwater was the reason the planet OA chose to stand by and do nothing when Krypton met its end.
Superman Clark's father, having realized the sins of their race, came up with the idea of sending his child to Earth as a last resort.
"Sir, you don't need to worry about the secret getting out."
A strategist beside him said calmly, "We can eliminate them through a third party."
To them, the Guardians of the Galaxy were nothing more than a group of bounty hunters—universally unwelcomed mercenaries. Dying on the job was just part of the business.
Especially when you piss off a major power—being hunted down is practically expected.
…
At this moment, Allen and the others were piloting their spaceship toward Knowhere.
After earning thirty thousand energy credits from a mission, it was definitely time for a celebration.
Naturally, wages had to be paid out too.
Seeing his account increase by several thousand energy credits, Yondu was moved to tears. He couldn't help but hug Allen and shout, "Boss, I freakin' love you!"
"Ew…"
Allen shoved him off with a look of disgust. "Yondu, you're seriously changing your orientation over just 3,000 energy credits? That's disgusting."
Then he turned toward the empty air beside him with a fawning smile. "Unlike me—I've always loved Sister Death."
Here we go again.
If he doesn't flirt with thin air for a day, he gets all antsy.
Allen had no concept of money. Since he couldn't take it back to the main timeline anyway, he might as well spend it on his teammates.
That said, 3,000 credits per mission was three to five times what a veteran bounty hunter would earn—and ten times what a newbie made.
Energy credits had substantial purchasing power. In the movies, Star-Lord's elemental blasters only cost a few hundred credits.
Most bounty hunters' expenses came from renting ships and paying tolls. Eliminating those meant saving a fortune.
"Sis, was I cool just now? I did it all to impress you, you know."
Allen said sweetly to the air, "I only wanted to get your attention."
"…"
The group's expressions ranged from annoyed to outright repulsed.
Except for Thanos and Hela, neither Uxas, Frank, Yondu, nor Illusion could figure out who the "Sister Death" by Allen's side was supposed to be.
One thing was certain—she definitely wasn't Hela.
Knowing Allen's shamelessness, if he really had feelings for her, he'd already be clinging to her leg without a second thought.
Aboard the ship, the invisible Lady Death constantly had the urge to beat him up, but she restrained herself to avoid blowing her cover. She even considered letting Thanos handle it, though it seemed he might not win.
Safely arriving at Knowhere, the ship docked smoothly at the starport under guidance beacon instructions.
Once again stepping onto the bustling bounty district, the team, now flush with cash, wasted no time spending it on upgrades.
When you're out in the field, having a trusty weapon is a must.
Thanos and Uxas had lost theirs in the battle against the Kryptonian Xenomorphs, thanks to the creatures' highly corrosive blood.
"I want brains."
Having re-possessed the pig-slaying blade, Illusion shouted, "Yondu, you promised me a thousand portions of brains!"
"Can we start with two hundred and pay the rest later?" Yondu asked, wincing in pain.
It wasn't often he was this rich, and after scraping by for so long, he hated to blow it all at once.
"No problem."
Illusion licked his lips with his tongue sticking out. "But if you try to stiff me, I'll eat your brains."
"No way. We're best buds," Yondu chuckled nervously.
After all, Illusion had saved his life. Skipping out would be low, even for him.
Watching it all unfold, Allen leaned over to whisper into Hela's ear, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Told you they had a thing. Tsk tsk… interspecies romance—it's just too much to watch."
"…"
Hela rolled her eyes. "So what's next?"
"Party time!"
Allen grinned. "I'm gonna spend every last credit before taking another mission."
Blowing money came first.
At the bar, plenty of other bounty hunters glanced over at the Guardians' table with envy.
The cancellation of the mission report meant it was completed.
And the table was covered in high-end contraband liquor—clearly, they'd made a killing.
Some couldn't help hoping they could join the team. Anything was better than flying solo.
Unfortunately, without an invitation from the team leader, self-recommendations were rarely accepted—unless a trusted person vouched for you.
Just then, an old man coated in what looked like gold dust walked into the bar, scanned the crowd, and headed straight for Allen's table.
"What's up, Golden Guy?"
Allen stared at him, thinking he looked familiar—like one of those sovereign beings with gold-painted skin.
"Are you the Guardians of the Galaxy?" the old man asked.
"Nope."
"…"
Allen's immediate response left the old man speechless.
You're not following the script!
How am I supposed to respond to that?
"I am Priest Corin of the Sovereign race. I'm here to ask for your help," the old man said sincerely.
"Go ahead," Allen replied.
Corin gave him a look, signaling that it was too crowded, then led them to a private room.
"Please… save our princess. I'm offering one hundred thousand energy credits."
Once the door was shut, Corin stated directly, "Our princess, Ayesha, has been kidnapped by the High Evolutionary. We hope you can rescue her."
"One hundred thousand credits!"
At the number, Yondu's eyes practically lit up like headlights, looking like someone who'd never seen that much money before.
The rest of the team stayed cold and indifferent—either clueless about the amount or too used to wealth to care.
"Not interested."
Allen narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "We're a no-name team. You're specifically hiring us? Sounds like a setup."
"No! Definitely not!"
Corin quickly defended, "Our people are afraid of retaliation from the High Evolutionary, so we're hoping a capable yet low-profile team can take the job and throw off the trail."
"Ohhh, that's the reason. Well then, no problem."
Allen nodded solemnly. "But half the payment upfront."
"…"