Adrian was notorious. The crowd that had just been eager to show off in front of Zhong Yan now took a silent step back, not wanting to be caught up in the sparks that might fly. No one dared to approach him impulsively; these two men weren’t just fresh graduates anymore but were now towering figures who could shake the world with a single hand. No one wanted to risk getting on the bad side of either of them.

People half-heartedly continued their conversations within their small circles, but their glances kept drifting back to the two figures approaching the school gate. Nobody wanted to miss this long-anticipated spectacle: the first encounter between the two in seven years. Curiosity, tension, and a hint of schadenfreude filled the air, weighing heavily on Zhong Yan’s formal attire.

A group from the Navi Military District brushed past him, heading straight into the campus, the man at the front not even glancing his way.

Zhong Yan felt a brief sense of disorientation. He had expected Adrian to sneer at him, hurl insults, or perhaps… he couldn’t deny it, deep down, there was a tiny hope. Maybe Adrian would come over and ask to talk, and perhaps they might reconcile.

But he never imagined Adrian would ignore him. Seven years—he had seen countless reports, and any time someone mentioned him in Adrian’s presence, Adrian would erupt with anger. Rumors even circulated that after Adrian assumed the position of commander, mentioning Zhong Yan’s name was practically forbidden in the Navi Military District.

So why wasn’t Adrian angry now, after seeing him in person? Zhong Yan knew Adrian well. They had once lived under the same roof, inseparable for three years, close as can be. He once thought he understood Adrian better than anyone. But now, he wasn’t so sure. The Adrian he knew was a spoiled young master who never held back his temper or swallowed his pride. Seven years had been too long; Zhong Yan couldn’t guess this man’s thoughts anymore. Had he let go? Did he find it beneath him to speak to Zhong Yan? Or did he simply not see him?

Most likely, he just hadn’t seen him. Adrian Atte and Zhong Yan had once been close friends and were now known as mortal enemies, but no matter what, they shouldn’t be strangers passing by without a word.

Self-deceivingly, Zhong Yan called out, “Adrian.”

His voice was soft, not expecting to be heard, but the man in front turned around.

Although he was smiling while speaking with others, his smile vanished when facing Zhong Yan. Those silver eyes seemed to freeze, emanating a lifeless, cold light.

The adjutant next to Adrian—Zhong Yan remembered him, Adrian’s friend from their school days, Fein—held Adrian’s arm subtly, muttering something under his breath.

Zhong Yan couldn’t make it out, but Adrian heard Fein clearly: “Don’t act impulsively; at least six hovering cameras are fixed on you right now, and I’m certain more than one is live-streaming…”

Impatiently, Adrian shook off his hand and said, “Representative Zhong Yan, you should address me as ‘Commander Atte.’”

Zhong Yan’s face went pale as he stared at him, disbelief flashing in his narrow, phoenix eyes.

Adrian felt a surge of malicious satisfaction, still finding it insufficient. He continued, “Remember that. Don’t ever let me hear you call me by my name again. It’s disgusting.”

The last trace of color drained from Zhong Yan’s face. He replied, “Fine.”

But Adrian didn’t wait for his answer; he walked away without a second thought after leaving those words behind.

After dealing with the reception staff, there was still a good while before the ceremony started. Adrian and Fein slipped away from the main group of guests, planning to stroll around their old school. Given that the Navi Military District behind Adrian was rumored to rival even the Capital Star in strength, the reception staff didn’t dare to stop them. Besides, everyone who landed on the Academy Star had undergone strict security checks, and surveillance cameras covered the campus. They thought nothing would go wrong, so the staff turned a blind eye to them wandering off.

The two chatted casually as they walked down a sparsely populated path. Fein’s gaze brushed over the sole surveillance camera at the end of the path, and he picked a flower from a drooping branch, circling around to face Adrian.

“This flower looks nice,” he gestured to Adrian. “What’s it called? We could plant some back on Navi Star. Though, no idea if it’s easy to grow.”

Out of the camera’s line of sight, he opened his hand to reveal a line written with a pen, a physical address.

All virtual data transmissions weren’t truly private; the oldest methods of physical communication remained the most secure.

Adrian looked at it for two seconds, his smile stiffening.

Fein retracted his hand, looking puzzled. “What’s wrong? Is there something off about it?”

“You’re sure… this is it?”

“Absolutely sure.” Fein glanced at the camera’s position again, mindful of their range. He couldn’t elaborate and asked again, “Anything wrong?”

“No, nothing wrong. I just don’t like flowers—don’t plant them,” Adrian replied.

Fein shrugged indifferently, tossing the flower aside.

After they left the secluded path, Fein rejoined the others, while Adrian headed alone to the address Fein had shown him.

It was an address he knew by heart. During his first year at the Highest Academy, they didn’t have separated faculties, so he and Zhong Yan would finish classes around the same time. They arranged to meet at a fixed spot daily to head back to the dorm together. They’d chosen a fresh juice bar. For that year, he’d go there every day to order two glasses of juice, waiting for Zhong Yan to finish class, or he’d find Zhong Yan already outside with two cups ready for him.

The juice bar allowed customers to mix up to three types of fruit for custom juices, and every season had a special fruit in rotation. In that year, they’d tried almost every combination, learning each other’s favorites and least favorites. Those were the happiest times in his first year at the Highest Academy.

Now, his adjutant told him that this address was the location of the largest anti-AI organization on the Academy Star.

Adrian’s suspicions were confirmed when he arrived. The juice bar that once stood in the corner of the commercial street had indeed closed down—a shame, considering even back then it wasn’t popular and had mostly just him and Zhong Yan as regulars. Now, a shop with a sign reading “Realistic Ornamental Specimens” stood in its place.

The colorful fruit displays from various star zones had been replaced by glass cylinders of different sizes, each containing lifelike small animal specimens. With a mission at hand, Adrian didn’t have time to dwell on the changes. He rang the service bell at the counter.

“Welcome… ah, Senior Atte!”

A young girl wearing the Academy’s badge emerged from behind the counter, clearly a student working part-time. Recognizing Adrian, her face lit up with just the right amount of surprise. “Are you here to buy a specimen?”

Adrian gave her a smile. “Hello. I booked a course to make a specimen.”

Her smile grew more genuine. “Of course. Our specimen courses are very popular. Which type did you book?”

“Insect specimens,” Adrian replied.

She nodded, operating the virtual screen at the counter, then gestured to the door behind her, “Your appointment is confirmed. Please, follow me. Don’t worry; we’re especially skilled in crafting… insect specimens.”

Zhong Yan looked away from the words “Realistic Ornamental Specimens.” The glass door hadn’t been changed; through it, he could see faint glimpses of the animal specimens inside, a few clearly furry small creatures. He frowned and turned to leave, uncomfortable with such displays, as he had always loved fluffy animals.

He hadn’t walked far when the door opened behind him, and the girl’s cheerful voice called, “Goodbye, Senior Atte! Come visit again!”

A familiar, deep male voice responded with a chuckle, “Alright, I will.”

Zhong Yan turned and saw the man in the black-and-gold military uniform step out of the store. The moment Adrian noticed him, the elegant smile on his face receded like the tide, replaced by a chilling, icy expression.

The student at the counter recognized Zhong Yan as well and looked between the two men, trying to excuse herself from the tense situation. “Senior Atte, I… I’ll just… get back to the store.”

“Wait,” Adrian spoke slowly, “It’s rare to run into Representative Zhong Yan here. I should give him a gift.”

The girl stared at him in shock, clearly thinking: Are you out of your mind?

Zhong Yan stood silently, waiting for Adrian’s next words.

“Do you have any rabbit specimens? The bigger, the better.”

The girl’s face flushed with embarrassment. Before he’d become a parliamentary representative, Zhong Yan had been pushing for an Interstellar Giant Rabbit hunting ban. Adrian specifically asking for a dead rabbit, and the bigger the better, seemed like a petty jab at Zhong Yan, though she didn’t know—only Adrian did—just how obsessed Zhong Yan was with Interstellar Giant Rabbits.

A secret only they shared, a small detail between them, now wielded as the sharpest blade. The wound it left didn’t bleed but hurt all the same.

Zhong Yan lowered his gaze. “There’s no need. Thank you for your… kind gesture.”

He couldn’t stay any longer and turned to leave. Behind him, he heard Adrian apologizing to the girl in an unusually gentle voice, saying, “No need to be so formal. If you don’t mind, just call me Adrian.”

The ceremony was about to begin, and he was going to be late. Zhong Yan thought indifferently. As one of the twelve most powerful figures in humanity, he was seated prominently in the guest section and couldn’t afford to be late.

He quickened his pace, leaving the specimen shop behind.